


Get You

by Valkiriana



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dumb precious boys in love, Geonhak is so tired of youngjo's bs, M/M, Mentioned xido, Mild Angst, Romance, Youngjo is an incurable romantic, but it's tiny, love cycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23333695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkiriana/pseuds/Valkiriana
Summary: Kim Youngjo is known for being a heartbreaker. But not in the way one would expect.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn & Yeo Hwanwoong, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 122
Kudos: 260





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to write this in order to keep myself sane during the quarantine. If at least a few people like it, I'll continue it!
> 
> This thing is indulgent as hell, so the plot of this - if you can even call it that, is basic af, like real basic, and I'm talking plain white shirt basic. 
> 
> Title taken from that BEAUTIFUL cover Ravn did. Go check it out in youtube!!
> 
> Warning for extremely whiny Youngjo and unrealistic representations of the college life and romantic relationships and friendships and relationships with ice cream. Yes. Ice cream. 
> 
> And cursing, naturally.
> 
> Also, everybody is gay ...or bi... or pan. Because... this is a fic. So yeah. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

To be perfectly honest, Youngjo is pretty sure he has never seen the boy before.  
But Geonhak is dumbfounded, watching him with a mix of that judgemental disbelief Youngjo has gotten so used to lately. 

"Hwanwoong? You mean Yeo Hwanwoong? Dancer extraordinaire, 170 centimeters of pure condensed temper and beauty, current president of the theater club, campus cutie Yeo Hwanwoong who literally shares /all of our classes/? That boy you mean?" He asks, and the way Geonhak just seems to spit the words with disappointment at him is just hurtful, really. 

Can't a man ask for a pretty boy's name if he sees one? 

"All- All of them?" Youngjo asks, brows furrowed as he tries to recall ever seeing him in his morning lectures. But it's hard. Most of the times he barely knows if he's awake or not during them. Thank god he's great at self- teaching. 

The pretty boy - Hwanwoong- laughs at something someone in his table said, and Youngjo's heart skips a beat. 

"I'm pretty positive I've never seen him before." He mumbles, eyes locked on that far away table in the cafeteria, ignoring the people passing right by his line of vision. 

"I- Jesus, dude. He's Dongju's best friend. They're literally attached to the hip. All day. Every day." Geonhak answers, but he obviously wants to be done with the subject. With him too, as he focuses on shoving food in his mouth with excessive force so he can hit the gym before his next class. Youngjo doesn't even try to make him see reason anymore. It's pointless. 

"Dongju? Do you think he'll give me his number if I ask him?" Youngjo asks, hopeful as he leans over the table. 

"Dongju hates you." Comes the curt, discouraging reply. Geonhak keeps munching on his food, regarding him with disapproving eyes and a certain primitive, blatant disgust that only comes to the surface when his best friend involves him in his romantic or sexual life. 

Youngjo should be offended, really. Instead, a little knowing smile adorns his face, and he leans closer, biting his lip. 

"But he doesn't hate /you/." He singsongs and Geonhak freezes. 

"No. Absolutely not." 

"But-" 

"No, I know what you want and I won't play mailman by asking Dongju to give me Hwanwoong's number for you. No." 

"But you're dating him!" 

Geonhak sputters, looking around with pink cheeks to see if anyone heard.

"We're not." He hisses, rather aggressively and Youngjo leans back onto his chair, pouting. "And anyways, he hates your guts, he wouldn't give you Hwanwoong's number even if we both begged on our knees." 

"Ooh, kinky." 

Geonhak fakes a gagging sound, going as far as to push his food away. "God, I can't stand you when you're horny." 

"I'm not!" (He is, but he also just really wants to get to know this Hwanwoong boy. And maybe take him out. And maybe kiss him. And maybe possibly undress him. But those are unimportant details right now.) "I just need to get to him. Why won't you help me out? We're friends! Best friends! BFFs and all that jazz, why won't you grant me this teeny tiny little favour?" Youngjo whines, attempting to win the other over with his best kicked kitten eyes. 

He's been perfecting the technique for /weeks/. It's infallible. 

"The answer's still no."

Well. Most of the times, at least. 

“Geonhak!”

“No. If you’re so desperate, talk to him on instagram or something.”

“Instagram is boring, it takes all the fun away from flirting.”

“You only say that because you don’t have as many followers as you want.”

"Ugh, I /hate/ you. You're so mean to me. All you do is hurt me." Youngjo sulks and steals pitiful glances at the heavenly looking boy far away who eats like a prince and behaves like an angel, opening a bottle for his friend and urging him to eat well. 

"Dude." Geonhak snorts, mouth still full. Youngjo grimaces at the sudden sight of his (gross) reality. "You know it's always like this. You see a cute guy, you say you've helplessly fallen in love with him, head over heels! And then profess your undying love, say he's The One, go out, fool around and in less than a month, bam!" Geonhak slaps the table and makes him jump in his seat. A few people turn around to see. But not Hwanwoong. Thankfully. "You get bored! Dump the dude, cry for a week as if you were the one who got dumped, and then you start over. It's your dopamine- icecream cycle."

Youngjo blinks. Swallows. Then blinks again. 

"My what now?" 

"Dopamine- ice cream cycle." Geonhak explains vaguely, chewing still. It's gross, really. Youngjo should stop making him talk with his mouth full "When a dude you like doesn't give you all those butterflies in the stomach fiasco, that...love chemicals high, dopamine fix or whatever shit anymore, you do a 360°, call the whole thing off and eat ice cream for like a week instead. Like a sugar rush to replace all that serotonin in your brain you're not getting by dating a new guy. Then you start over. See?" His friend makes a little circle in the air with his index finger "A perfect cycle!" 

It takes Youngjo a moment to process all the information, distracted as he is with the way Hwanwoong cleans his fingers with a napkin- so cutely- and the invisible air circle. 

He does /not/ do that, he does not have a /cycle/.... Or does he? 

"I- it doesn't matter." Youngjo shakes his head, a bit annoyed. "This is /different/. I know it is." 

Geonhak arches one skeptical brow as he shoves the last of his food in his mouth. 

"It is!" He insists with a huff and glances at the way Hwanwoong piles the plates and trays nicely on the table. God, isn't he a beauty. 

"Sure, whatever. But Hwanwoong's a good guy. He deserves more than a month of your attention only to be left nursing a semi broken heart because he doesn't meet your junkie levels of daily dopamine. Also, Dongju would murder first you then /me/. Or like.. Chop my dick off." 

"Because you're dating." 

"Yea- No!" 

Youngjo cackles as Geonhak snatches his bag and walks away, furiously red, with his big steps resounding through the still rather full cafeteria. 

Somewhere in the room, Hwanwoong glances up.

Their eyes meet. 

Youngjo waves, and Hwanwoong's smile, albeit confused, makes his heart stutter. 

Excitement runs through him at the perfect sight, making his skin tingle ever so slightly. 

Geonhak is wrong. 

No amount of sugar could compare to feeling like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it so far, I applaud you!
> 
> Leave me a comment!
> 
> Love talking to fellow moonies and I'm honestly so bored at home lmao-plssaveme
> 
> Don't forget to give oneus' new comeback some love!


	2. Chapter 2

"Kim Youngjo, at your service." He finally manages to introduce himself a week later, just after a class is finished. 

Turns out, Hwanwoong can be rather clumsy, and the way his pen rolls onto the floor and close to Youngjo's feet is a perfect godsent opportunity he knows to take. 

The pretty boy with big, shining eyes in front of him looks up with a tentative, ever so slightly strained smile, and takes the pen from his hand with minimal skin contact. Youngjo thinks it's the most adorable thing he's ever seen. He's awkward around strangers! 

"I- I know." Hwanwoong replies gently, as if explaining something very obvious to a moron whose feelings he doesn't wish to hurt. He is /precious/. "We share like... All of our classes. And you're Geonhak's roommate. We talked at a party once. I've even been to your place."

Oh god. 

Youngjo's painful, awkward laugh resounds through the now empty classroom, and he feels thankful no one he knows is here to see him digging his dignity's grave. Geonhak had left early to avoid getting second hand embarrassment from Youngjo "inevitably humiliating" himself, as he had hissed. 

Rather rude, if he says so himself. 

But maybe not wrong at all. 

"I- I /knew/ that." Youngjo lies and clears his throat, hiking his backpack higher up with a harsh shoulder shake. Hwanwoong follows the movement with his eyes, and it's like his whole body wakes up with excitement from it alone. Maybe he still has a chance. "But we've never been properly introduced, so..." Youngjo stretches his hand, a blatant attempt at touching Hwanwoong- even if it is but for a fleeting moment. 

He feels like one desperate man after a week of zero contact whatsoever. (Read: His attempts at getting Dongju to like him had proven an utter failure, and thus, Youngjo's flirty texts were still gathering virtual dust in his notes, unable to be sent to the love of his life's number.)

Hwanwoong's smile turns amused at the sight of the other's pathetic effort to keep this conversation afloat. It takes a moment, but for Youngjo's incredible relief he finally lets his -adorable, tiny- hand meet his for a firm little shake. "We have been introduced, actually. Guess you were too drunk to remember, though." Hwanwoong chuckles and pulls away, way too soon. "I'm Yeo Hwanwoong."

Oh, what a precious name coming from a precious man's lips.

"Well fuck, I really can't screw it up with you any further, can I?" Youngjo blurts, and it earns him a melodic high pitched laugh that his brain will kindly replay for him for days, even in his sleep. 

"It's okay." Hwanwoong shrugs, replies with a genuine, eyes- squinting smile that does all kind of things to Youngjo's poor, beaten heart. 

Then, he glances up at him, expectant for a fraction of second. And this is it, he thinks, it's now or never. 

"I feel bad, though." Youngjo attempts to sound even more remorseful than he feels, trying to channel his kicked kitten looks once more. This time for the win. "Is there anything I can do to fix this? Oh! Let me buy you a coffee!" He tries, as if he hadn't planned to get to that sentence for a week straight. "It's the /least/ I can do." He adds, earnestly.

Hwanwoong seems surprised by the turn of events, eyes wide and blinking rapidly as he checks his phone and glances around. "I- uh right now?" 

"Yeah, sure! We'll need caffeine to deal with the assignment for this friday. Or do you wanna revise together for the quiz tomorrow? You look like you're great at studying." Youngjo answers excitedly and starts walking towards the door without waiting for a reply. (A little trick he'd learnt by watching "Easy psychology tricks" one sleepless night on youtube) And as expected, Hwanwoong follows, stuttering a little as he tries to keep up. 

"Uh- sure, let me just- let me just text Dongju real quick. He might wonder where I went." He mumbles and when Youngjo glances at him, he swears he can see him blush. 

Mission Initiating Contact: Success!

"Don't bother, I saw Geonhak texting him to meet up just now." Youngjo says and gently guides Hwanwoong in the right direction through the hall with a hand between his shoulders. Hwanwoong is so small Youngjo wants to bit his fist. 

"Oh so you /do/ know Dongju." Hwanwoong points out and glances through the side of his eyes at Youngjo with a little smirk. 

Youngjo would kiss it off if he could. 

He knows what that phrase means. 'You know him, but not me?' Hwanwoong might as well have told him he liked having all of his attention on him. He is/flirting/. 

Youngjo hasn't known true elation up until this very moment.

"Don't read much into it. It's just 'cause Geonhak won't stop talking about him. And being with him. And sucking faces with him." Youngjo pulls a face for show and the other laughs, letting out a small sigh. 

"That, they do." 

"Think they're dating?" Youngjo asks in a conspiratorial whisper and Hwanwoong squints playfully, as if trying hard to think.

"Think Dongju will bite you if you say that aloud." Hwanwoong opts to reply with stretched lips, and it finally feels like he's at ease with him. 

The overpowering rush of hetic energy that runs through his body at that very realization makes him dizzy for a moment. It's both a painful and satisfying experience. 

Not unlike getting a brain-freeze from eating your favourite ice cream flavour, he thinks, and promptly shakes the thought away from his head. 

He is not a love junkie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny ass chapter to keep this going...  
> If you like this, send me some love in the comments!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Copious amounts of Xido.  
> I regret nothing.

It's a pretty nice afternoon, Youngjo thinks. The sun's still out, the air is warm but light and most students are laying around on the grass, enjoying their precious, scarce free time.

It's a particularly perfect afternoon to close his eyes and think about a certain someone, and maybe even write a song about them and their beautiful laugh. 

Maybe. Probably. 

It's calm. It's enjoyable. Until of course, his poor taste in friends spoils it all, yet again. 

"What the actual fuck." Keonhee whispers, all of a sudden, sounding horrified, and Youngjo follows his line of vision only to drop his pen and gape. 

Dongju is on Geonhak's lap. 

He is sitting with his ass on Geonhak's thighs. In public. Out in the open. For /everybody/ to see. 

Youngjo thinks he might need lenses. Nevermind if that's not how eyes work. They /have/ to be deceiving him. There is /no/ way his roommate is hugging his not-but-totally-boyfriend so carefree like that. It has to be an optic illusion of some sort.

"What the fuck, what the - oh my god, I need to record this- the /fuck/." Keonhee keeps blabbering, scrambling for his phone as Youngjo stares, dumbfounded. 

Well damn. 

"Oh god, they're just as gross as I imagined them." Keonhee mumbles, phone in his hand as he blatantly records the not-but-totally-couple several meters away from them. "What the hell is going on? The world went mad." He states, wide eyes catching every single movement in his screen. 

Youngjo's initial shock dissipates slowly into mild surprise, and then he allows himself the simple privilege to observe the scene not far away from them. 

Sure, he's seen them together before. Way more than once, in fact. But it usually goes along the lines of a blurry mess of limbs, wrinkled clothes and hair pulling when Geonhak believes himself sneaky enough and brings Dongju home 'secretly' on a school night. Maybe some chill making out on the couch until a hand sneaks into someone's pants- which also happens to be Youngjo's cue to lock his door close and blast music as high as he can through his headphones.

But of all the times he's seen them together, he's certain he's never seen them like this. 

Geonhak is tenderly hugging Dongju's tiny waist, and he's looking up at him with such fodness that he's sure it would make anyone properly blush. It radiates adoration. Dongju, usually fierce and ill-tempered, looks appeased and comfortable in the other's arms. He even laughs prettily when Geonhak whispers a few words into his hair, and returns the sickenly sweet look with one of his own. He caresses a hand on his waist and furrows further into Geonhak's embrace. 

It feels like a scene straight out of a romantic film. 

It makes him yearn to have that. 

It's mesmerizing.

"It's disgusting." Keonhee states, and finally stops recording. 

"I think they look... Cute." Youngjo blurts before he can stop himself, and the sassy, overacted gaping look Keonhee gifts him with is enough for him to regret even his college choice. 

"I- oh, no. You only ever stand disgusting PDA when /you/ want to have disgusting PDA and that means- shit! You started the cycle again!" Keonhee gasps, their unaware friends long forgotten, apparently. 

"I don't have a cycle!" Youngjo protests, sputters inintelligible words of denial as he looks for his pen somewhere hidden in the grass. But of course Keonhee won't let it go anytime soon, and Youngjo knows it will only be torture from here on. 

"Who is he?" His friend eagerly demands to know, shifting closer and shoving at his shoulder when he refuses to answer. "Kim Youngjo tell me who's your next prey! Or I /will/ find out on my own and I will tell him /everything/ you did at that party in freshman year so your image is /ruined/ in his eyes forever and-" 

"Jesus! Fine! Alright I tell you, but don't you ever mention freshman year again or I will tell Geonhak about that little video in your phone you just took." Youngjo threatens back firmly and Keonhee mimics zipping his mouth close, then throwing a key away. 

They both know Geonhak is perfectly capable of breaking a phone in half using just his bare hands. 

"Okay. First of all, he is not a prey." 

"Sure." Keonhee sasses, earning himself a glare. "Yeah, yeah anyways..." 

"It's... It's Yeo Hwanwoong." 

Youngjo is absolutely certain the gasp Keonhee lets out can be heard all the way to the other extreme of campus. He is so dramatic it puts even Youngjo's own mum to shame. And she ... She is something. 

"Oh nooo, oh no, Dongju is gonna /murder/ you when you dump him." 

"I'm not gonna dump him! We're not even dating yet!" Youngjo sputters, scribbles angrily on his notepad. 

"/Yet/." Keonhee repeats and clicks his tongue. 

Youngjo opens his mouth to retort and then squints, confused. “Wait, you know him too?”

“What do you mean, too? I know him /first/ we went to HIgh School together, were in a choir and everything. I’ve talked about him like a million times. We went on a vacation together last summer, I literally have a selfie of us as a background in my phone!” Keonhee all but rants, shoving his phone right into his face to show him where, indeed, there’s a picture of the two of them at a pretty beach, the sun hiding behind them and making Hwanwoong look like the perfect angel he probably is. 

Youngjo blinks, taking in the information 

"My, Youngjo, you really are a mess. I really don't get why boys always fall for you so easily." Keonhee sighs in what can only be interpreted as disapproval as he lowers his phone. Youngjo snaps out of it. . 

"Uh? Rude? Maybe because I'm, you know, handsome, talented, smart, sweet..." 

"Yeaah... Yeah no, that's not it." 

Youngjo rolls his eyes and doodles a creepy tree along his sociology notes. "I just- I don't know where you guys got this dumb love cycle bullshit but it's not like that. I really like Hwanwoong." He mumbles with a little sigh. 

"Dude, I'm not saying that isn't true, but... Youngjo you say that about every boy you date. And then you barely last a month with them before slipping into an ice cream coma for a week." 

"It's not like that, Hwanwoong is-" 

"Different? Really might be The One this time?" Keonhee arches an eyebrow. "Don't think so, boo." He adds, gently. 

Youngjo sends him a helpless look and glances back at Geonhak and Dongju, who are sweetly bickering in their little bubble of love, unaware of the rest of the world. 

His heart stutters for a moment. He yearns for something like that. Lasting, and true. 

He hopes. He wants. He needs. 

But life is long and full of wonderful surprises and he ought to be patient, he reminds himself, as a certain short, blond boy dances around in his head. 

Before he knows it, there are hearts all over his notes. 

Levi-strauss be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hesitate to leave a comment if you want to! They rlly do help me keep writing bcs ya girl sucks at motivation.  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

Patience only lasts for about three days before Youngjo is ready to buy a whole kilogram of ice cream all to himself. 

"It's ruined. My life is ruined! He doesn't like me back, what am I gonna _do_ now? I can't go to class anymore, I can't see him and make a fool of myself in front of everyone. Fuck. I'll have to miss the semester." Youngjo whines in his couch, an arm thrown over his eyes as he makes little wounded noises. 

"Youngjo." A pause, a terrifyingly long inhale. "He did not reject you, he just didn't reply to your text. For eleven minutes. Would you just man the fucking up?" Geonhak hits the legs that are thrown across his own, and Youngjo sits up with a yelp, pouting. 

"That's sexist." 

"Whatever. God. I wish I could just inject you with dopamine sometimes and be rid from this you." Geonhak huffs as he scrolls down his phone, probably some work out blog. 

"You just don't understand true love." Youngjo sniffs and takes a pitiful look at the empty screen of his phone. 

"True love." Geonhak mimics full of sarcasm and Youngjo doesn't even have the energy to fight him on it. 

What for? There's no hope in the world anymore. 

"I've done _everything_ right. I brought him coffee, we talked, we studied, I walked him home, he even texted me first! So why won't he reply to me anymore?" 

"Did you use your pick up lines?" His roommate asks, completely uninterested. 

"Yes but he liked those." Youngjo pouts further, scrolling up his conversation with Hwanwoong to see the cute reactions to his pick up lines. He smiles sadly. Why can't the world be nice like that again? 

"Are you sure he did?" 

"Yes!" Youngjo hisses and throws a pillow straight into Geonhak's cheek. 

"Ugh, dude, the fuck? Damn, would you just chill, he's probably just busy, he's the president of a club, his hands are probably full with a new play or whatever." 

"Or, maybe Dongju poisoned him against me." Youngjo mumbles, bitterly. 

Keonhee, of course, has not been able to keep his mouth shut, and inevitably told Harim who, instead, told Dongmyeong who predictably informed his twin that Youngjo had a big fat crush on Hwanwoong. 

Needless to say, Dongju was not happy. The murderous little threats sent as text messages are proof of it. Youngjo wasn't even aware of the multiple ways one could torture someone's penis. 

He shudders just thinking about them. 

"Talk badly about Dongju again and you can kiss your right to use my video games goodbye." 

Youngjo gasps, sitting up. 

"What happened to friends before dicks?" 

"You broke that one first, man. A long, long time ago." 

Youngjo sighs and lets himself fall back onto the couch like a princess would fall onto his pillow-filled bed after a lovers quarrel. 

But soon enough, the light returns to his dark rotten life in the form of his obnoxious text notification- specifically assigned to Hwanwoong, of course- and Youngjo scrambles pathetically to check it while Geonhak stares with mild disgust. 

But he doesn't care. 

How could he care when the very reason of his happiness has sent him the cutest selfie with an ever cuter puppy, completely unprompted, along with a _'My uncle got this little fella last week...thought you'd like to see him!'_

And by god he is right. Youngjo is smiling so wide right now, his cheeks hurt, his heart, oh so full, ready to burst from a single picture. How dare someone be so cute? 

**From: Youngjo**

_he is aDORABLE_

_he puts all of the other puppies in the world to shame!!!!_

**From: Woongie <3<3 **

_XD_

_Stop! He'll get spoiled!_

**From: Youngjo**

_but its true, tho...._

_almost as cute as u_

_ <3 _

Oh god. 

"Oh god, Geonhak." He whispers as he holds on tightly to his phone for dear life, horrified. 

"You're acting like someone died, please stop it, you're creepy." 

Oh god... Was that too much? It felt like too much. He's sure it's too much. Oh god, now he really did ruin it and he won't be able to face Hwanwoong and go to class and he'll miss the semester and- 

**From: Woongie <3<3 **

_Oh my god... would you stop?... I'm in public!_

Youngjo swallows, visibly more relaxed as he stares at the message. It's not so bad right? It's not exactly reciprocating but he could be just playing around, right? Should he answer? What should he say? What should he-

**From: Woongie <3 <3**

_So... I've been thinking..._

**From: Youngjo**

_dont hurt yourself <3 _

**From: Woongie <3<3**

_Idiot..._

_So, like I was saying, I've been thinking, and..._

_Maybe we could hang out again..._

_Without the books this time_

The squeal Youngjo lets out is so loud they get bangings on the wall to make him shut up, a dog starts barking, and Geonhak kicks him off the couch and onto the floor.

But bruised ass, grumpy roommate, annoyed neighbours, maniac dog and all, Youngjo could not be happier. 

**From: Youngjo**

_would love that!!_

He sends a few minutes later, pretending like he isn't rolling around in his bed, kicking the air in excitement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny lil chapter to keep my writing going before I get too lazy to even type
> 
> I'm sorry, dear reader, I'm trying. 
> 
> Leave me a comment if you'd like!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point the only plot here is that ravn is in love with hwanwoong lmfao

“Fuck, nooo!” Youngjo whines into his arms as Hwanwoong laughs at him from across the table. “God, I can’t believe you saw me do that!” 

Youngjo knew that little drunken strip dance in that one party in freshman year would haunt him forever. 

“I’ve seen people do worse.” Hwanwoong says with feigned solemnity. It makes him happy, to know that the both of them are enjoying themselves. That Hwanwoong feels comfortable enough to joke around with him. 

But for the sake of their little game Youngjo just whines harder, a highkey bad crying imitation at this point. What can he say? His mother is an actress, drama runs through his veins. 

“Shh, you’re being too loud.” He is chastised gently, a little flick on the mop that his head is with his face hidden against the table covered by his arms. “People will think you’re weird.” 

“Do you?” Youngjo asks, raising his head to look at Hwanwoong all of a sudden. 

The small dinner they’re at is mostly empty so late into the evening. Youngjo would have preferred to take Hwanwoong somewhere else, somewhere nicer where people don’t mop the floor next to you and the fries aren't so greasy that the plastic like napkins aren’t enough to get rid of the oil on your fingers. 

But Hwanwoong is a busy man, and late evening and near campus were his conditions to meet Youngjo- for what he’s pretty certain counts as a date. So he’d happily agreed and arrived unusually on time, just for him. And it had paid off, because the moment Hwanwoong appeared, a smile taking over his flushed face, a little breathless from his dance class a few streets away, Youngjo felt like he was in a Nancy Meyers film, ugly dinner and all. 

Hwanwoong looks at him with scrunched eyebrows, and he looks so cute like that, like he just oozes charisma whatever he does. 

“Mhm…. like definitely a bit weird.” He shrinks into his shoulders, teeth clenched as he waits for the other’s reaction. 

Well, damn.

Youngjo is fast to slaps a hand on his chest, pretending to be wounded. “Ouch, my heart, my poor heart-” 

“Stop! You’re so cheesy!” Hwanwoong laughs again, throwing a little napkin ball at him with a poor excuse of a frown that makes him look like a playful puppy instead (Youngjo's heart really is wounded).

His date then lets out an annoyed little noise of frustration at him, and takes a sip of his coke.

Hwanwoong is the cutest human being on earth, he decides, right there and right then. 

Youngjo just smiles at him and plays with the little paper ball on the table, passing it from one hand to another. He sighs, helplessly, like he's feeling so much looking up at the pretty boy in front of him he just needs to express it somehow, or he'll explode. He might explode.

Youngjo doesn’t remember having such an effortless conversation on a first date ever before. But Hwanwoong’s so easy to be with, responds so quickly to him and his flirting, like he’s genuinely interested in Youngjo and not just flattered to have his attention, like on those sad little first dates in which he's had the misfortune of experiencing a complete lack of connection, or empathy whatsoever. Though Youngjo can tell that he is that too, flattered. He can tell by the way Hwanwoong swallows whenever he stares at him for too long, whenever he avoids his eyes when he’s said something bold, a praise, a joke laced with a bit of suggestion, an intimate question, or when a moment just lingers between the two of them. 

“But you like cheesy.” Youngjo points out at the cheddar sauce all over the half full plate of fries and Hwanwoong just groans again, pretending to stand up and leave. But he isn't having it. Youngjo tugs him back down by his arm with a giggle, because he can't leave, he won't leave and they both know it, and this joke is a bit too cruel for the deepest part of his enamoured heart, that just yearns for him to spend the whole night there, together. And then some more. 

Youngjo just leaves his hand on the other's, interlaces their fingers on the table and pretends he isn’t doing anything at all.

If Hwanwoong minds, he doesn’t say a thing.

His heart stutters for the nth time that night. 

It’s about an hour later, when they’ve seemingly run out of things to ask each other that Hwanwoong meets his eyes boldly, leaning back against his padded seat, their shared plate empty along with the two plastic bottles. The dinner is officially empty by now, only an employee closing the kitchen for the night as they just wait for the bill.

“You’re… different than what I expected.” Hwanwoong says, lowly, barely above a whisper. 

It catches Youngjo off guard, and he frowns, a little nervous. “Damn, is that bad?” He chuckles awkwardly. 

“No...no, it isn't bad at all." Hwanwoong doesn't hurry to reply, as if he was actually considering his question. He straightens up, dragging a hand down his face, like he suddenly regrets even having opened his mouth. And then he looks at Youngjo, really looks at him, as if he could reach even his soul. “I mean, you give off this aura, like you’re sort of unreachable, like you don't really care. You walk around campus like you own it- like-”

“Are you trying to tell me I seem arrogant? But I’m actually a sweetheart? Well thank you, Woong-”

“Shut up!” Hwanwoong chuckles, all the tension of the moment snapping with that little flustered expression of his that Youngjo has already managed to decode. “I mean that you’re actually playful, like ...chill, I guess. Like genuine.” He finishes and resolutely avoids the other’s eyes, looking around the dinner.

Youngjo has never heard something like that being said about him, ever. He's heard that he is handsome, cute, good- looking, beautiful even, talented, charismatic, hell, he's heard the word 'gorgeous' more than a couple of times. But this? This is unlike anything he's ever heard about himself before.

He stays silent. It hits him in a way he doesn’t expect, like instead of feeling uplifted, he feels humbled by it. Undeserving. It’s a new feeling, and he isn’t sure if he likes it. 

Hwanwoong excuses himself to go to the toilet and by the time he comes back, Youngjo’s already taken care of the bill. 

“We can go, already.” He announces as he stands up, walking towards the door and holding it open for Hwanwoong to go first. 

It feels strange to go out, the streets dark and noisy, cold. It's like waking up from a pleasant dream, having to get up from a warm bed on a school day when it's still way too early for one to function, way too cold outside the comfort of the covers.

“You already paid?” At the other’s confused face, he smiles, the fresh, night air hitting his face and making Hwanwoong’s pretty nose all red already. 

“My treat tonight.”

“Of course not. No, we’ll split-”

“You asked me out, so let me. I’ll ask you next time, and you’ll pay. Sounds good?” 

“Oh, so this all is just a plot to go out with me again?” Hwanwoong smirks, and Youngjo seems to gravitate towards him, moving closer without even realising. 

“Only if you don’t get offended?” 

“I would never.” Hwanwoong scoffs. 

They’re really close now, the lights of the dinner casting pretty shadows on Hwanwoong’s smooth cheekbone, makes Youngjo lean even closer, tilting his head just so- 

But then he feels the cold fingers brush his warm neck as Hwanwoong starts fixing the collar of his jacket, completely unbothered about the fact that Youngjo was just about to kiss him. 

“It’s cold.” He shrugs with a little coy smile, and then he draws back with a little jump to his step, like a playful child that has just gotten away with a mischief. “You should warm up.” Hwanwoong adds and turns away, starts walking towards his dorm. 

And Youngjo, smitten as he is, follows him back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a terrible writer and an even more terribler updater 
> 
> This is a sad little thing im sorry but HEY at least I'm continuing this right haha...ha. yes. 
> 
> Anyways, leave me a comment if you want!


	6. Chapter 6

The first time it happens, Youngjo thinks nothing of it.    
  
It’s their first date after all, and he is not trying to rush things. Quite the contrary, really, he’d rather take his sweet time making sure Hwanwoong is as comfortable with him as possible, and build into what he hopes could be the base for a good, strong, lasting relationship. 

  
  
The second time it happens, it’s a beautiful sunday afternoon. The park is lively, full with the laughter of kids and the hum of people chatting nearby, birds singing and the pleasant melody of the water fountain close to them.   
  
There’s an eyelash on Youngjo’s cheek and Hwanwoong gets close and gently blows it away, letting his thumb caress the skin there. It’s just a moment, but it leaves Youngjo’s world upside down and his heart battering like crazy. He leans in, taking advantage of the protection of the trees hiding them from view, wanting more, yearning for it. But Hwanwoong pulls away before he can kiss him, letting go of the older's hand to put space between them.   
  
Youngjo feels the pang of rejection twist his stomach into a knot for a moment, but then Hwanwoong laughs, gently shoves him away and says something about how kids are nearby and it wouldn’t be appropriate and it eases the ache in his chest.    
  
They walk and chat and laugh. Hwanwoong gets them both some food, and it’s all pleasant enough to make Youngjo forget about the whole situation and go back home with a sappy smile that annoys Geonhak into slamming the door of his room shut. 

  
  
The third time, Hwanwoong invites him to Improvisation Night at some bar where him and the members of his theater club do fun sketches to get themselves used to audiences and practice for their eventual play at the end of the year.    
  
Youngjo drags Geonhak along, with the promise of Dongju being there, and as expected, he disappears to go not-but-totally-flirt with him as soon as he spots him inside.    
  
Youngjo is left alone to marvel and swoon internally at the way Hwanwoong looks so tiny on the already tiny stage. He laughs at the funny parts, boos when there’s an evil character portrayed in a sketch, and overall fills with pride at the way Hwanwoong is so very expressive, quick witted to react to the proposed situations by the crowd, and the way he interacts with the small audience, catches their attention like a magnet.    
  
Youngjo is so mesmerized with Hwanwoong that he doesn’t realize Lee Seoho is part of the little crew of actors. 

His heart drops when the group receives the final applause, realizing one of his ex boyfriends has been on the stage the whole time, probably covered by someone's head or a column. 

For a second it feels like his whole world is distorted and he freezes in his place as they get off the stage, feeling a bit panicked. Youngjo somehow manages to spot Hwanwoong, who's looking happy and unaware. He' smiling and talking to his friends by the time he meets Youngjo's eyes and a big grin blooms on his face. 

Youngjo doesn't have time to rejoice in the way Hwanwoong seemed to have been searching for him when Seoho gets close and whispers something in his ear, much to his dismay. It's long and it makes Hwanwoong's smile falter a little. It ends with the both of them glancing at him, just for a moment, and Youngjo feels like he’s going to be sick.    


After their short two months relationship in first year, Seoho had avoided him like the plague for three whole semesters. But Seoho is dating a girl now, and the relationship with Youngjo is currently cordial at worst. He doubts he would have any reason to say anything bad about him… right?    
  
As he slowly spirals into a ball of anxiety, Hwanwoong makes his way to him, looking happy and sweaty and positively glowing. Like nothing has happened at all.   
  
Youngjo doesn’t have time to dwell on his panic when he’s got such a pretty, talkative sight in front of him, and they’re soon drinking, purposefully spying on and gossiping about Geonhak and Dongju, who look utterly murderous, but neither of them cares. Youngjo showers Hwanwoong with compliments, if only to see him blush and make him smile, shy under the dimmed lights.   
  
It’s late when Youngjo offers Hwanwoong to accompany him home. The younger doesn’t even try to protest and allows him, which is a big progress if he says so himself. The short walk is silent but comfortable, their hands warming each other up in the cool night, under the moonlight. It’s perfect.    
  
But when it’s time to say goodbye and Youngjo leans in for a small peck, Hwanwoong turns his face and kisses his cheek instead, slipping into a slight hug before thanking him and urging him to get home fast and safe.    
  
As Youngjo makes his way back to his room, he wonders if Lee Seoho is still mad about the fact that he was broken up with via text.    
  
He certainly hopes not. 

  
By the fourth time Hwanwoong rejects a kiss, Youngjo is sure he’s going insane. Or at least have a mild psychotic crisis.

The fire that burns inside himself every time Hwanwoong as much as glances his side is nothing short of unbearable, like it’s going to eat him alive if he isn’t kissed, touched, looked at, acknowledged.    
  
And yet, Hwanwoong remains unbothered, ignoring the way Youngjo always seems to be seconds away from professing his undying love for him and then some.    
  
This time, it happens in his own room, having invited the younger over for Netflix. Just Netflix. He swears.    
  
The movie they’ve been watching for a while in his laptop stopped making sense long time ago. Probably around the time Hwanwoong shifted to rest his head on Youngjo’s shoulder, cuddled up to him. It’s a romantic comedy, that much he knows.

There’s a point where the main character delivers an unfortunate pick up line, and he feels Hwanwoong tense, the grimace on his face reflected on the dark parts of the screens.    
  
“That was so bad.” He snorts softly, like he doesn’t wish to interrupt, but the displeasure is such he can’t hold back. 

“You like my pick up lines.” Youngjo comments back with a slight pout, as if absent-minded, way too immersed in the heat of the other’s body to think about his own words.    
  
“Yeah well, they’re yours.” Hwanwoong mutters, furrows deeper into Youngjo’s body and the way his heart flips, the way it sends white, overwhelming heat all over his body has his hands searching for the other’s face, holding his chin gently and tilting it up.    
  
And then it’s just a moment. Just a fleeting, heavenly second of the skin of his lips touching the corner of Hwanwoong’s before the younger pulls away, as if burned. He slips free from his unbinding hold and sits up. A pillow is roughly pushed against his face, and the spell is broken, the laughter bubbling up the other’s chest enough to snap him out of his lust-driven quest for a single kiss.    
  
“I know what you’re trying to do, Kim Youngjo, and we agreed on just Netflix.” Hwanwoong says, as if chastising him. He’s playful in the way he says it, but when Youngjo drags the pillow down his face with a huff, he can’t spot a single trace of coyness on his face. This is no game of cat and mouse Hwanwoong is playing. He means this. 

It doesn't sit well with him.   
  
“What? No, I wasn’t- I was not-” He attempts, feeling heat on his cheeks in a way he hadn’t felt in a really, really long time.    
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know your type, mister.” Hwanwoong interrupts him and snorts while rolling his eyes, as if Youngjo was nothing but a common liar with hidden, inappropriate intentions.    
  
Youngjo makes a little, high-pitched, offended sound in the back of his throat, looking at Hwanwoong like he’s been personally attacked. But he’s too embarrassed and taken with the other’s pretty laugh to say that no, that isn’t him. He isn’t that type of man. He feels. He feels deeply and openly, too much at the same time and too fast, uncontrollably so.    
  
He wants to look at Hwanwoong and ask, why do you push me away? Don’t you feel just like me? I care for you, I look for you, I want you, I want  _ us. _   
  
But he never does, he doesn’t know how to. None of is previous relationships felt as right as being with Hwanwoong does, and yet, it feels to him that he doesn’t know where he stands with him. There’s an uncertainty related to Hwanwoong Youngjo has never experienced with anyone before.    
  
By his fourth date with anyone else Youngjo would already have them waking up in his bed with breakfast ready to spend a lazy saturday morning together. Like a proper couple. And that’s all he wants. He yearns for it, his heart aches for it, for intimacy, for love.    
  
Youngjo wants the kind of love that one might find in films, in books, in those stories that keep you up at night and make you fall in love with every turn of the page. He desires it more than anything else in life, even if he won’t admit it out loud. He needs it, and if that means getting his heart broken over and over again until he finds the one, then so be it. 

When Hwanwoong manages to get the laptop and go back to the scene they missed, he settles back into Youngjo’s side and watches attentively. At some point, Hwanwoong falls asleep in his arms, and for a moment, just for that moment, Youngjo closes his eyes and pretends like he’s finally found it, his perfect movie like love.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe people still read this mess. 
> 
> I want you to know that I appreciate you all. 
> 
> SAD NEWS THOUGH!!!!!  
> I'm very behind on my uni work and also my heart has been stolen by a seoho au so I might not update for some time. BUT WORRY NOT! I WILL finish this story (god pls help me finish this, pls), no matter what. 
> 
> I'm sorry <3<3 <3 thanks for the support


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, if the quality of this diminishes with each new chapter, I apologize. It's the only way I can get myself to write. I promised that I'd finish this and I will, damn it! 
> 
> (Don't let me write chaptered fics ever again.)
> 
> Warnings for alcohol and drunken kisses. Just kisses. Also, this is rlly unbeta'ed.

.

It hits him, as he walks from one corner to the other of his small living room, with his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone, Geonhak’s awful guitar playing in the background, that his life is now divided in two big major portions, separated by one main event.

Life Pre-Hwanwoong and life Post-Hwanwoong.

(The main event being, of course, Yeo Hwanwoong.)

And if he thought life Pre-Hwanwoong was bad, boy is he in for a surprise when he realizes that he’s been internally whining for hours now. Life Post-Hwanwoong is a complete and utter torture, he realizes when it’s been more than a month he’s seeing this more than perfect boy and he still can’t manage to compartmentalize what he feels for him with...well, having a life.

Because Hwanwoong is the most confusing person he has ever half-dated before. Dated? He isn’t even sure he can call it that. Because most of the times he doesn’t know where Hwanwoong is even, what he's doing. Does he even know his favourite colour? His favourite food? Shouldn’t someone know this if they aspire to be in a good, strong relationship?

He’s not sure if he should touch Hwanwoong anymore, with the way the younger will sometimes move away, gently taking his hand and letting it go, as if the heartbreaking action was carried out as a mere distraction. “Clingy” he may mutter under his breath with a soft smile, but Youngjo’s heart slowly withers away, the sick feeling in his stomach growing and growing until he doubts if he should even call Hwanwoong to go out in the evening like they planned. 

But then sometimes, Hwanwoong will give him these looks of pure, utter fondness, and he’ll fix his clothes for him. He’ll tell him he’s done well in whatever thing Youngjo has been whining away for two hours, encourage him to keep working until he achieves what he wants. And then some other times, when they go out, Hwanwoong will feed him as he speaks, like a reflect, uncaring if people sees, if they comment. Those days make him doubt, make him feel that perhaps Hwanwoong, the possible love of his life, wants him as a friend, at the very least.

But then -and these are the times that make Youngjo’s body go into override, his heart hammering like crazy to the point where it even hurts to breathe- on those rare times in which Hwanwoong feels carefree and particularly decisive, he’ll mindlessly dab at Youngjo’s face if he’s sweat too much, like that isn’t the grossest thing ever, utterly unaware - or unbothered- if other people look. Those days, Hwanwoong will even be as bold as to sit on his lap - _on his lap!_ \- , in public, for his friends to see and even comment, and he won’t tremble, won’t hesitate as Youngjo stays still, frozen, as immobile as a rock, afraid to move, to say or do the wrong thing and break the precious, otherworldly moment of pure perfection.

“I’m _not_ okay.” Youngjo finally says, looking up from the screen for the first time in a long, long time.

“We know. You're a love junkie. It’s seriously not healthy. Have you ever thought of therapy?” Keonhee asks with mild to no actual concern as he scrolls down instagram, one earphone on as he watches reposted tik-toks, because he refuses to actually download said app as if he was too good for it. He isn't.

Youngjo rolls his eyes internally and drags a hand down his face for the tenth time this evening. “Careful, you’ll get wrinkles, boo.”

“Just- who invited you here?”

Keonhee silently points at Geonhak without raising his eyes from the screen.

His roommate is busy trying chord after chord on his old guitar -that has very obviously known better days. It sounds terrible, but he thinks Keonhee might somehow help him fix that.

And perhaps that's why Youngjo allows Keonhee to stay, even though he's being absolutely useless right now. Because if he can at least make his roommate stop sounding like he's killing the poor instrument instead of actually playing it, he'll be forever thankful. 

There's no worse torture that his roommate with a guitar and not-but-totally in love. Serves him right, Geonhak would snicker if he could hear his thoughts, for all the months you made me suffer through each and every one of your relationships. 

Karma is indeed, a bitch. 

“Geonhak, would you _please_ stop for one single second, I’m kind of in the middle of a crisis here.”

“You’re always in the middle of a crisis.” Geonhak mumbles, unbothered as he makes another failed attempt at a Do.

“But this time it’s for real!”

“Try moving your wrist instead of just your fingers.” Keonhee interrupts him, taking off his earphone as he addresses Geonhak, ignoring Youngjo as if he wasn’t in his literal apartment, on his couch, using his wifi.

The new chord sounds infinitely better now and Geonhak grins in such a boyish, bright way Youngjo maybe forgets why he’s mad for a moment. He does love his friend, okay? 

“Guys? Crisis here?” Youngjo asks, whines, begging for at least a little bit of attention.

Keonhee sighs heavily in response and looks at him in that bitchy way only he can manage. And perhaps he shivers a bit under his stare. But that, he'll never admit. 

”You’re not the only one in love, okay? Geonhakkie here also requires my attention and expertise in the issues of the heart.” His friend states airily, as if he was beyond all of this, above them all, as if he wasn’t a scaredy cat when it came to such _“issues of the heart”._ Can anyone tell this boy hasn't dated since high school? 

The guitar stops abruptly. “What the f-?”

“Okay, but my crisis is actually urgent?”

“I don’t have _issues of the heart_!” Geonhak yells, pointlessly. 

“Ugh, pray tell, supreme lover, what could possibly be more important that Kim Geonhak being openly romantic for once in his life? And through music of all things!”

“I’m _not_ in love!” 

He is. He very much is, because there’s no possible platonic explanation for wanting to learn how to play the guitar to serenade a boy you don’t actually care about. Geonhak is beyond delusional, and if someone asked him, Youngjo would say that he’s the one that needs therapy. But it’s pointless to argue with his roommate and make him see reason - or his own feelings- so It’s his turn to be ignored instead, as Youngjo and Keonhee start a mildly heated discussion regarding relationships and a possible order of priorities among them.

“ _Fine_ , whatever, out with it, what’s the problem now?” Keonhee cuts their argument before it can properly start, knowing Youngjo is as stubborn as he is whiny and the older just hands his guest the phone for him to see his conversation with Hwanwoong.

“He’s drunk.” Youngjo states, while Geonhak slams the door of his room shut to keep practising for his beloved Son Dongju. Youngjo would enjoy this way more if he wasn’t in what he’s sure is one of the key moments of his life.

More or less.

“I can see that.” Keonhee frowns and then raises his eyebrows at the amount of typos of Hwanwoong’s virtually slurred words in their chat.

“He wants me to go to the party.”

“I can read that.”

“I- I don’t know what to do.”

His friend blinks at him and Youngjo is well too aware that he’s doing an enormous amount of effort in order not to judge the hell out of him, still somehow not used to these little outbursts of his.

“He asked you to go to the party he’s at.”

“Yes.”

“So…” Keonhee says slowly, as if talking to a non native speaker. Or perhaps a small four years old child at the brink of a tantrum. “Why don’t you just…go?”

“Because!” Youngjo sighs, letting his body melt dramatically into the couch, as a lady fainting in those old movies from the fifties. “ _Because_ , I don’t know if Hwanwoong feels the same way I do about him, you know? It’s like… It feels so right to be with him but we’re not in the same page. What if…. what if he just wants to be friends? I can’t go rushing to him like he’s the love of my life if he’ll just pat me in the back and go dance with his friends because this is just a drunken whim of his, you know? And I dont know, I wanted to establish some distance between us if that’s the case. _But_! What if it’s actually the contrary? What if he feels like this and wants to let me know and- It wouldn’t be fair you know? Letting us finally, like, get together- _properly_ together, I mean. Like is that how I wanna start a good, lasting relationship? Through one drunken, careless night? That’s a rocky start. And if we start this way how can I be sure that we'll be able to get through possible difficulties in a futur- ”

“Okay! Okay, I get it!” Keonhee interrupts him with a nervous laugh, grabbing him by his shoulders as he mumbles something to himself and finally looks at him with the seriousness of a father scolding his child for failing his classes. Again.

“By _god_ , you need help! Listen. You like Hwanwoong, yeah?”

Youngjo nods dumbly. Of course he likes him. He adores him, is head over heels for him. Like? He would say that’s kind of an understatement.

“Then stop planning a future, still nonexistent relationship, shut your brain off for a second and actually ask whether he likes you back first.”

Youngjo stays still for a moment, processing Keonhee’s surprisingly wise words as he mulls over the idea of just… going with it.

What- with no plan? Just... doing it?

Regardless of the context and possible outcomes?

No romanticism? 

He blinks. It doesn’t sit well with him, but he’s feeling so confused, so utterly lost for the very first time regarding what Hwanwoong wants with him, what he feels for him, he’s willing to do anything to make it stop at this point.

Life post-Hwanwoong is exhausting.

“So? What are you waiting for? Go!” Keonhee urges him, pushing him off the couch and to the door. He hands him his jacket, his keys and wallet as Youngjo stammers a weak, little protest while he helplessly watches the way Keonhee works to get him out of the apartment as soon as possible.

“B-but- my clothes-”

“You always look like you’re going to a house party, just go!” Keonhee orders, pushes him out the door and promptly closes it right into his face.

It happens all under a single minute. 

Youngjo is left gaping in disbelief as his phone tingles with the special little cute -obnoxious- sound he picked for Hwanwoong’s messages in particular.

**From: Woongie <3<3**  
_WHere R youuuu????_

Yes. Way too drunk.

Youngjo replies a little comforting text and shoves the phone right into his jacket’s pocket, decided to be there as soon as he can. As he walks away from his door, he can still hear his friends’ voices from the inside of his apartment, muffled.

“Kim Geonhak! Let’s write that love song!

“It’s _not_ a love song, goddamn-!" 

...

It takes Youngjo fifteen minutes to reach the party. Partly, because he refuses to run and get sweaty in such an important occasion, and partly, because maybe, just maybe, he’s trying to buy himself some time, trying to get rid of the overpowering nerves. But it turns out to be futile with the way his phone just won’t stop beeping insistently, a sea of messages that comfortingly grow from unreadable to some forgivable typos. He ends up sweaty anyways.

But he’s determined. He’s determined to find Hwanwoong and ask him, plain and simple “Do you like me?”. Maybe, if he’s too drunk, he should wait until the morning. After all, they should have this conversation like the adults they - sort of- are. Or perhaps, he could take him somewhere else, like the dinner they had their first date in. That’d be kind of romantic, wouldn’t it? Yes. Yes that should do it.

When he finally arrives, he finds, for the very first time in his life that the sea of people, usually comforting and exciting, is nothing but plain annoying. Regardless of how much Youngjo loves people, all he wishes is to find Hwanwoong, and right now, they’re only an impediment. A large one at that.

The music’s too loud, the lights too dim, people are too many, and too drunk and he starts getting nervous, until his panicked eyes finally find Hwanwoong amidst the crowd. In the middle of the dance floor, to be precise.

Dancing with someone else- or rather, grinding on him.

Youngjo’s heart stops, all of his senses shutting down for a moment. And as his heart stammers back into life, Hwanwoong’s eyes lock on his. 

He turns around. And leaves.

Youngjo’s too deep in his head, way too fixed on the image of Hwanwoong dancing so prettily, so relaxed, utterly giving himself to another person like that for everyone to see, to feel the cold, or realize that his phone has been non-stop vibrating in his pocket ever since he crossed that door.

Hwanwoong never let himself relax like that when he’s with him.

Youngjo can’t help but feel as though there’s something wrong with him, like this is a true, irrevocable rejection, specifically crafted and dedicated to him. Even though part of him realizes that Hwanwoong is most likely just drunk, disinhibited, carefree and light with the alcohol running inside his body.

But he can't think rationally at this point. All he wants to do is go back home and slip inside his covers and be miserable until he falls asleep.

He shouldn't have come. Lee Keonhee has always been useless when giving advice.

Okay not always. 

In fact, never. 

But there's always a first. Maybe he's just so tired of Youngjo's problems he has purposefully boycotted his future with Hwanwoong so as to not have to deal with any more of his drama.

Youngjo wouldn't blame him. At least not that much. Probably not enough to break their friendship. Though maybe he will yell at him when he gets home.

Perhaps, he won't, if he's lucky and finds a convenience store still open. He's craving something sweet. And soft. Something comforting. Like ice cream. 

So when a voice calls his name, over and over again, Youngjo doesn’t hear it until the yells for him are too close for anyone to ignore, and he turns around out of instinct, shocked. 

“Kim Youngjo, god damn it, would you stop?!” Comes Hwanwoong’s voice as he runs to him, way too fast, and ends up colliding against his chest before he can stop.

Hwanwoong laughs, happily throwing his arms around his neck and nuzzling his neck warmly. It makes his heart race, having Hwanwoong so close, it's hammering so hard against his chest, as if it wanted to escape, leave him alone to deal with the mess he got them both into. “You came.” Hwanwoong whispers contentedly and pulls away before Youngjo’s arms can surround his waist, inevitably press him harder against his body.

“I- yeah. You asked me to.” And now he can see Hwanwoong. Really see him. He looks a little breathless, a little disheveled. His cheeks are slightly red, hair messed up and light makeup barely smudged despite his sweaty skin. He looks beautiful in tight pants, a light but short jacket that highlights just how small his waist is.

He’s _glowing_.

“Why did you leave? I was calling for you.” The other looks up at him with slight concern, a mix of curiosity and the leftover happiness from finding that Youngjo actually showed up. “Wanted to dance with you.”

And Hwanwoong must be a cruel, cruel man to be doing all these things to Youngjo’s poor, battered heart, the way it makes his whole chest hurt, ache for him, yearn for more. But his head is a mess of thoughts and emotions he can’t even begin to handle. Much less with Hwanwoong looking so unawarely precious. And how can Youngjo blame him, when he looks so innocent like that?

“Woong?”

“Mhmm?” Hwanwoong hums happily, tugging at the hem of Youngjo’s jacket, reading the inscriptions he made that last weekend on it. 

“Just- just _how_ drunk are you?” He asks carefully, trying to search for Hwanwoong’s eyes as he’s seemingly way too focused on the fabric of his clothes to look up.

“I’m… tipsy. But I’ve been drinking water.” Hwanwoong says, finally looking up at him with serious eyes, filled with earnest truth, as if trying to prove a point.

Youngjo feels speechless.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Why are you being this weird?” Hwanwoong chuckles slightly, suddenly using his sleeve to dab at the sides of his face, his cheek, his temple, where the wetness on his skin tends to shine the most. It's completely unprompted, this sweet, selfless show of affection, and that does the trick, the gentleness of his touch sending Youngjo’s body into override.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Do what?” Hwanwoong asks, lowering his hand slowly, as if sensing something serious is coming up.

_Out with it, Kim Youngjo, it’s now or never._

“Do you even like me?”

The question hangs heavy in the dark, chilly air that surrounds them. It wraps around them, and it takes a second, just one for Youngjo to utterly regret speaking up, because suddenly Hwanwoong steps back, expression unreadable. And this is it. The first time Youngjo has ruined a relationship before it can even start. He can’t even fathom the idea of not having Hwanwoong anymore, how can he get used to an empty phone, to empty weekends without plans made by him, for him?

“Like you?” Hwanwoong suddenly speaks, and Youngjo’s heart breaks, knowing what comes next. But suddenly, his precious Hwanwoong laughs, sweet and gentle and he gifts him a glowing, radiating smile full of warmth. “Of course I like you! How could I not? Everybody does...”

A spark of hope flares up in him, deep inside his chest, expanding all throughout his body.

“I don’t care about everyone else.”

Hwanwoong bites his lip, hands tugging on the sides of Youngjo’s jacket, pulling him closer, coyly, in a way Hwanwoong has never done before. And it’s probably the alcohol in him, but Youngjo doesn’t have it in himself to care, mind blown by how pretty Hwanwoong looks tonight.

“Well, I like you.” Hwanwoong repeats, feigning shyness as he slowly drags his eyes up to meet Youngjo’s one more time. It leaves him breathless. “Do _you_ like _me_?”

Youngjo’s hand raises on his own, body out of control, mind swimming in pure, undeniable pleasure, and he tenderly cups Hwanwoong’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb as if he was his most beloved possession. “Of course I do.”

The beam that overtakes the other's features has got to be one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen, and before he knows it, Hwanwoong throws himself into his arms and kisses him fully on the lips, pressing into him with such force that Youngjo almost falls back.

Hwanwoong pulls away to laugh into Youngjo’s neck, tickling his skin in a way that sends pleasant shivers all over his body. But soon, filled with impatience, he’s searching for his lips again, Youngjo’s arms instinctively holding him up against himself as he smiles into moving lips, letting happiness filling him for a moment.

He forgets all about those grandiose romantic scenarios of his, forgets about confessions and roses and the fact that this is a less than ideal situation, with Hwanwoong tipsy as he is.

Later, Youngjo will worry about it, while Hwanwoong laughs and insistently tugs him back to his dorm, promising that it’s fine, that he won’t regret this the next morning, that he truly, wholeheartedly wants Youngjo, that he’s so handsome, has wanted to kiss him for so, so very long.

“We can’t- Hwanwoong, you’re drunk- baby, listen- mmph.” Youngjo will try to protest when Hwanwoong will finally press him against the closed door of his room, his mouth warm and insistent, sweet and alluring as he'll leave kiss after kiss on his skin.

“ _Tipsy_.” Hwanwoong will be quick to correct and with one last peck, he’ll lead Youngjo to his bed and will sit him down on it.

“Kisses, just kisses.” He’ll whisper, oh so sweetly and Youngjo will sigh, shakingly, and eventually give in, if just to receive all the kisses that Hwanwoong has denied him before.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this wasn't too awful. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you've read the previous one! This update was fast compared to the other ones. 
> 
> Dear reader, I know you started reading this with 'mild angst' in mind, but I'm afraid the next few chapters I'd actually define as Angst (l o l) This was supposed to be a lighthearted plotless little thing. I apologize.

.  
  
  
  
  
Youngjo thinks dating Hwanwoong is the easiest thing he’s ever done. It feels so right, so simple. It’s natural, as easy as breathing for a while.   
  
But of course, things are never as perfect as one wants them to be. And Youngjo, whose romantic fantasies can never quite meet his reality, is disappointed rather soon in their relationship. Especially the day he realizes Hwanwoong needs more than he can give, more than him. 

“No. Stay, why won’t you stay?” Hwanwoong whispers sweetly into his ear, tugging him back inside his apartment with complete disregard of whether his neighbours see, or listen. It melts Youngjo’s heart, fills him with warm pleasure, makes him want to close his eyes and give in, give himself into the alluring invitation. But then someone clears his throat loudly and Youngjo sighs, smile still in place as he kisses Hwanwoong’s cheek and slowly unwraps his boyfriend’s - _boyfriend!_ \- arms from around his neck.    
  
Hwanwoong, who usually has to tiptoe to reach up for a hug, or a kiss, slowly presses his heels back on the floor. The way he has to slightly look up at him - with a pout at that- disarms him so that he can’t help but lean in for another kiss. Nevermind his lips quite literally burn from the contact, after being kissed raw and tender all afternoon. It’s common occurrence by now, anyways.    
  
“I don’t think Dongju will like it if I take up anymore of your time, baby.”   
  
“Stop, you know I hate it when you call me that. Now you gotta stay, make it up to me.”    
  
Youngjo laughs, despite the little huff of annoyance he can hear from Dongju back in the tiny living room- or kitchen.    
  
“Please, you never stay anymore.” Hwanwoong whines, touching his chest, his neck, fixing the collar of his shirt and making sure his necklace falls right in the middle of his chest. His touches are soothing, familiar now.    
  
“You can always come to mine, you know that.”    
  
Hwanwoong lets out a playful little sigh filled with exaggerated annoyance, like he usually does when he doesn’t want to start a fight, but wants his discomfort to be known regardless.  
  
Youngjo isn’t fond of his rare outbursts of passive aggressiveness.   
  
“You live way too far from campus, Youngjo. We’ve talked about this.” Hwanwoong mumbles, looking down and slightly pulling back. Just like that, their little spell is ruined, and Youngjo knows his boyfriend’s given up for the day. He exhales, clenching and unclenching his hand when he lets go of the other’s hips.    
  
“Are you actually upset because I invited you home now?” Youngjo whispers, so that Dongju won’t hear, but there’s a little reproach in his tone - one he’d rather have kept to himself. 

"What?" 

"You sound mad."   
  
Hwanwoong’s whole demeanor changes at that and he crosses his arms, rolling his shoulders back like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin.   
  
Youngjo doesn’t like where this is going.    
  
“I- no. Why do you always have to twist things like this? I don’t- of course I’m not mad because of that. Who would be? I’m not even mad. I just- “ Another sigh. The inevitable tension that comes before Hwanwoong goes all out. “You know I’m stressed, I have early classes and-”   
  
“We have the same classes, baby-” Youngjo tries to soothe him, tries to express that he understands, but instead, it ends up sounding like he’s defensive. And maybe he is, but he’s not all too aware of the mood when he tries to touch Hwanwoong’s cheek and his boyfriend slaps his hand away.    
  
“No, don’t- don’t “baby” me right now, I’m serious.” Hwanwoong swallows, and looks up at him with stern eyes. Youngjo feels pinned in his place. “I have things, so many more things to do than just being with you, I- I have a whole play to direct, you know this, and some of us actually need to study to pass exams, you know- I can’t just- just come and go all the time to see you because you want to produce or you wanna be home, Youngjo, can’t you just-”   
  
“What?” Youngjo asks softly when Hwanwoong stops all of a sudden, feeling his throat dry, all tied up in knots. He doesn’t like it, wants to rewind the whole thing and do it right this time, tell him yes, yes anything you want, just don’t be mad. Not at me.    
  
“Make an effort to see me? For once?”   
  
It shatters Youngjo’s heart into tiny little, sharp pieces that hurt when they crash against his chest, all over his body. Because he makes an effort. He always has, always will. Being with Hwanwoong was a big, big effort, Youngjo thinks, as he swallows and looks away. His eyes meet Dongju’s, who’s peeking from behind a wall. Most likely summoned by the bad energy they have going, because it’s not like he would let an opportunity to hate on him pass.    
  
“An effort?” He asks dumbly, distracted with the way Dongju’s eyes seem to throw daggers at him.    
  
“Yeah, I always change my plans for you, or make space in my day for you, or go to yours even though I’m busy. And- don't get me wrong I want to do it, because I like spending time with you... But you… is it really so hard to come see me at the theater in the middle of rehearsals every now and then? Or stay even if it’s inconvenient for once?”   
  
“I- Okay, yeah- but we don’t have to talk about this, right now.”   
  
“Then when?” Hwanwoong demands, in a way that screams that he has absolutely lost all his patience. “You never want to talk, anyways. This is my one free night up until the play and you-.”   
  
“You’re right, I’m sorry. Do you want me to stay? I can stay-”   
  
“No, don’t just- don’t just say that to please me. Do you hear what I’m saying?”    
  
“I am- I do. Yes. I’m sorry.”   
  
Hwanwoong drags a hand down his face when he notices Youngjo looking behind him and he spots Dongju. Said friend leaves them with once single murderous look from Hwanwoong, but the bad taste in his mouth stays, the feeling of being judged.    
  
They stay in awkward silence for a moment. Youngjo is terrified to speak up, say something, anything that will make this worse than it already is. Making Hwanwoong more upset is the least he wants to do.    
  
“Okay.” Hwanwoong exhales after a long time. And it’s never like this, Hwanwoong never sees him with that sad resignment in his eyes, like he’s… disappointed on him. “Just...I don’t want you to be sorry, just...just that you pay attention every now and then, yeah?” Hwanwoong says.    
  
Youngjo nods, offers him a poor excuse of a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and turns away to leave.    
  
Hwanwoong tugs at the hem of his jacket, though, before he can cross the door, and presses a single kiss against his jaw, caressing the other side of his face with his free hand.    
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”   
  
Youngjo nods again, smiles again. He takes Hwanwoong’s hand and squeezes it once before turning around and leaving as soon as he can, without even looking back.    
  
The next morning, a weird dryness takes over his throat and he decides to skip classes, conveniently avoiding facing Hwanwoong, as he tries to deal with the uneasy feelings dancing evilly around in his stomach.    
  
He’s anxious as he lets Hwanwoong know that he won’t be seeing him today, but his boyfriend is sweet, despite being absolutely enraged with him - or so Youngjo thinks- and sends him a heart, encouraging him to rest until he feels better again. No anger, no passive-aggressiveness, no silent treatment. It’s somehow worse to be treated with kindness after screwing up.   
  
“Do you need anything for when I come back?” Geonhak asks as he’s getting ready to leave without him, slipping his head through the crack of his room as he rolls around in his bed in misery.    
  
“Uh, we ran out of honey for tea… ice cream would be nice, I guess.” Youngjo mumbles under his duvet. Geonhak doesn’t reply and he’s forced to throw the duvet aside to look at his friend, who’s staring at him with a mix of surprise, concern and judgement. It’s a strangely normal mix to see in him, to be fair.    
  
“Is… everything okay?”   
  
“No, my throat hurts. I’m getting sick. Life is pain and misery, and you’re making me talk-”   
  
“With Hwanwoong. Is everything okay with him?” Geonhak cuts him off, seemingly impatient.    
  
“With Woong? Of course everything is- why? Did Dongju tell you anything?” Geonhak’s little frown intensifies and Youngjo knows he just made a big, big mistake. “Oh fuck, is this about the goddamn ice cream?” He asks, sitting up all of a sudden in a scandalized, frantic movement. “Oh for fuck’s sake, could you guys stop with that little joke? People eat sugar, Geonhak, plenty of people enjoy ice cream when they’re depressed and also, surprisingly, when they’re okay too! And when for example, they happen to have a sore throat. Not that you would understand because of course even the mention of sugar is taboo for a gym junkie like you, god _forbid_ your friend eats-”   
  
“Yeah, okay, god okay. Just shut up, you’ll make it worse and your groans of pain are annoying” Geonhak dismisses as he leaves with a dramatic eyes roll.    
  
Youngjo gives his closed door the middle finger.    
  
Stupid Geonhak, he thinks as he throws himself back into his bed, pulling the duvet with him until it covers him completely.    
  
His phone chimes annoyingly as he’s slipping back into dreamland, and Youngjo reluctantly reaches for it, glancing at the ill-timed new message. God damn whoever is sending him messages so damn early.    
  
**From: Dongju  
**   
_ Youre a coward   
One little argument and now u wont even face him?    
U did the same w Dongmyeong   
I hope he dumps ur sorry ass bfr u can _   
  
Youngjo swallows at the screen, blinking. Indeed, things with Dongmyeong had started to go sour after a similar situation of sorts, but he doesn’t wanna think about it that way.    
  
Because that would mean he’s repeating a cycle.  
  
And Youngjo _does not_ have a damn cycle.    
  
**To: Geonhakkie  
**   
_ Could u pls tell ur bf to stop meddling in my relationship?   
ty _   
  
**From: Geonhakkie  
**   
_ Not my boyfriend.   
So you do have issues with Hwanwoong? _   
  
**To: Geonhakkie  
**   
_ And yet You Know WHO I’m talking abt _   
  
**From: Geonhakkie**  
  
_ Not getting you ice cream, dude.    
_ _Go and fix your relationship instead of trying to get me one_.  
  
  
Youngjo huffs, annoyed at his friend and turns off his phone before going back to his bed.    
  
As he mulls over the idea of explaining to Hwanwoong why he’d rather have him at home and avoid visiting him in the theater or staying at his place, the pain in his throat gets somehow worse and he tries not to cry into his pillow.    
  
Life post- Hwanwoong is indeed exhausting.   
  
  
  
  
.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought in the comments!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not happy with how this turned out. Also it's pure angst. You've been warned my loves.

“Can you really not come?” Comes Hwanwoong’s pleading voice through the speaker and Youngjo bites his lip, hating himself for making Hwanwoong sad. Again.   
  
“I’m sorry. I just procrastinated way too much, and I have a ton to do this week. And you do too! I don’t want to distract you.” Youngjo replies, smiling sadly to himself.   
  
The truth is, things aren’t going well. And Youngjo hates himself for it, breaks his own heart, piece by piece, every time he comes up with yet another excuse in order to skip yet another date with Hwanwoong. Soon, there won’t be any more of himself to give, destroyed as he’ll be.   
  
He knows why he’s doing this. And it’s far from what his friends think, far from what anyone might possibly imagine.   
  
He can see it in the disapproving look in Geonhak’s eyes, the way he closes the door a little harsher every day. He sees it in Keonhee’s silence, the way he’ll only reply to work related messages and will otherwise leave him on read. He sees it in the way their friends in common will send him judging, annoyed looks, or downright avoid him when they would otherwise greet him. He guesses he deserves it.   
  
But they’re wrong. All of them   
  
Because the problem is not that he doesn’t like Hwanwoong, it’s that he does.   
  
“I… I could come over. We could study together.” Hwanwoong tries, for the last time, and Youngjo feels his heart clench, swallowing back the crack in his voice before pushing out a little soft laugh.   
  
“Since when can we actually be together and just study, baby?” Youngjo asks, and the the little dry chuckle he gets in return feels like a stab to his chest.   
  
“Yeah...I guess you’re right.” Hwanwoong sighs. The fact that he doesn’t fight over the nickname is a sea of meaning Youngjo doesn’t even want to decipher.   
  
“I’ll see you soon, okay?” He hurries to say before he can break down in tears and make everything more messy than what it needs to be.   
  
“Youngjo?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I miss you.”  
  
The words resound in his ear, and a single, little, treacherous tear runs down his cheek.  
  
When Youngjo finally hangs up, he feels as though a truck has just ran over him. He’s utterly exhausted, and all he wants to do is slip under the covers and watch netflix all night.   
  
By the time he leaves his room to go get his newly acquired bucket of ice cream, Geonhak is right there, sitting on the couch, arms crossed, as he stares, murderous, at the wall.   
  
“Why do you keep doing this?” His friend asks without even gracing him with a look. His right foot is tapping on the floor incessantly, a little habit he has when he’s extra annoyed, and Youngjo feels a headache coming up.   
  
“Doing what?” Youngjo snaps, knowing what this is about and without the energy, nor the will to go through with it.   
  
“Lying to him, pushing him away. You don’t have to ‘study’, why would you say that to him?” Geonhak all but spits, and Youngjo sighs, because fights with him are bad, and he doesn’t need one right now.   
  
“Now you’re spying on me?” He asks instead of actually bothering with a reply, knowing his friend wouldn’t get it. No one would. He’s alone in this sad, dark world. “Don’t you have more important things to do? Like, you know, call your parents, do the dishes- take care of your own, not- relationship?”  
  
Mr. In Denial Extraordinaire rolls his eyes and ignores him, the coward.  
  
“If you don’t want to see him anymore, why don’t you just break up with him? At least you won’t leave him hanging like this. Hwanwoong deserves better. If you’re just gonna make him lose his time-”  
  
Youngjo lets out a little derisive laugh, walking towards their kitchenette with disbelief and tugging the door open to take out his ice cream then slamming it back shut. “If I break up with him, I’m an asshole, if I don’t break up with him, I’m also an asshole! Guess I’m just an asshole!”  
  
“Well if you didn’t try so hard to be one-”  
  
Youngjo gasps. He downright gasps, a major gasp, like a full wide open mouth with a hand on the chest gasp, one of those that only mexican telenovelas would be able to do it justice.  
“I- I cannot believe- the hell is your problem?”  
  
“Oh would you quit it with the whole dramatic ass- My problem? What’s your problem?” Geonhak stands up, voice going higher, invading the whole room in a way that would make anyone tremble, but not Youngjo (He knows Geonhak cried back then when they watched Inside Out together.)  
  
“I warned you, we all warned you, that this would happen, that you would end up hurting him because of your little whims. But did you pay attention? No! And now look at you! About to break up with him, eating a whole bucket of ice cream on your own, whining like a little kid like you aren’t the only one responsible for all of this mess-”  
  
“I didn’t break up with him this time, okay?” Youngjo is quick to defend himself before he can mention his presumptuous love cycle, absolutely fed up with the term,   
  
“Well, would you look at that, someone give you a prize for it!” His roommate exclaims, full of cruel, bitter sarcasm, like he wants it to hurt. And it does. It hurts him right where Geonhak wants it, because he’s his friend, and that only makes it worse.  
  
So Youngjo breathes in deep, as deep as he can before he can say something that he’ll regret forever. But he’s mad, and hurt, and he feels the need to defend himself regardless.   
  
“Geonhak, you’re literally the least qualified person to give me relationship advice, you know? You pretend like you’re all high and mighty but won’t even accept you have feelings for someone else. Talk to me once you’ve grown some balls to call Dongju your boyfriend.” He opts to say, making sure to end this argument once and for all as he gets into his room and slams the door shut.   
  
It’s dark in there, but he doesn’t bother turning on the lights until he hears the main door being opened and slammed shut a few minutes later. Geonhak, who got too heated and needs to go out for a walk, Youngjo thinks, as he shoves yet another spoonful of ice cream into his numb mouth, yet again whining about his misery. Why can’t he just have nice things without somehow ruining them?   
  
His phone is normally quiet these days, without proper classwork to keep up with, nor friends who aren’t aware of his ‘shitty attitude’ to reach out to him right now. So when his phone sounds, that little obnoxious ringtone he still has saved for Hwanwoong, he startles, almost dropping the rest of the melted ice cream onto his bed as he reluctantly reaches for it.   
  
**From: Woongie <3 <3  
** _...are we okay?_  
  
The little text makes his eyes sting with the pressure of reluctant tears, but he refuses to crumble, right now. So he leaves his unfinished ice cream and his laptop aside to properly lie down and stare at his screen until he can find the proper words to reply.   
  
Yes. Yes, we are okay. I’m sorry, I’m an asshole. We’re perfect. Because you’re perfect and I like you, I adore you, I love you. At least I think so. Even if it’s too soon to say it and I’ll scare you and we’re not meant for each other, because I’m not good for you.   
  
And that’s the problem. That’s always the problem. Youngjo is the problem.   
  
Because Youngjo is never good enough, has never been good for the boys he’s dated.   
  
He realized, like an epiphany, the day Lee Seoho pushed him away when he tried to hug him in public.   
  
“You’re so clingy, do you really never stop?” He’d said, stressed about one of their first exams as first years. But lack of bad intentions and all, it had marked Youngjo forever, and it always kept bothering him in the back of his mind, like a little annoying fly in a summer night, unwilling to let you rest until you’re mad with anger and lack of sleep. ‘You’re annoying’ it kept buzzing. Clingy. Lazy. Too flirty. Dramatic. Make an effort, will you?   
  
But Youngjo has always been good at pushing things away, locking them somewhere in his head, pretending like they don’t exist anymore.   
  
So he tried again. And then again. And once more.   
  
Because Youngjo is nothing if not positive by nature, certain, deep in his soul, that good things await him, no matter how long it takes until he reaches them.   
  
And whatever can be better than love? True, undeniable love, the one that makes your knees weak and your chest ache. It always feels so good, falling in love, like the whole world is upside down, in the best way. And then, when reality hits, he’s falling, like coming back from a hit.  
  
Once it’s gone, that pink fog in his head that makes everything feel so good, everything seem so perfect, the grey reality that surrounds him, and the boy he used to find so perfect, doesn’t seem so alluring anymore.  
  
He wonders if he can really call what he felt then, love. Or if it was just pure, meaningless attraction. No matter how much he tries to decode it, he believes it was real- at first at least.   
  
Did he ever truly love?   
  
Was it really love, when he couldn’t help but find that little mole in his first boyfriend unattractive? No, he really didn’t like his haircut, no matter how much he tried, and his friends were impossible to deal with, as much as he pretended it didn’t bother him.   
  
Oh, how he hated when Lee Seoho raised his voice, whenever he didn’t take him seriously when he was trying to talk about his problems, or when he criticized everything he wore, told him how lazy he was.   
  
And Dongmyeong was a nice boy, he had always been, but did he really have to be so very self-centered? Was watching netflix and going to concerts really all they could do together?   
  
Youngjo is never sure why he sends the message, why he calls and says, this doesn’t work for me anymore, but it was great while it lasted. But he understands there’s no other way to deal with the undeniable pressure in his chest that won’t let him breathe. He’s filled with the dread that he couldn’t be better, that he couldn’t withstand the obstacles of yet another failed relationships, that his love was not love. Just an illusion, no matter how real the pain felt.   
  
Youngjo snickers to himself when he finally realizes that, after all this months, he’s been fighting a long lost cause.   
  
Because Youngjo has, indeed, a fucking cycle.   
  
Youngjo is a living, breathing cliché of falling in love, experiencing disappointment and the bitter truth of life, breaking up, then rinse and repeat.  
  
But love junkie or not, even with a heart filled with coldness, stuffed fat with sugar until it almost bursts, Youngjo still has it, beating weakly in his chest. He is not heartless. He cares, really does care, even when he’s the one ending the relationship.   
  
Because breaking up first saves them both a lot of time, Youngjo thinks, and himself, a lot of pain- or the confirmation that he is indeed, not enough.  
  
So as he stares at the little message in his screen, he thinks about Hwanwoong, sweet Hwanwoong. He thinks about how beautiful he is, how talented and gentle and caring. And he feels it, that undeniable fondness that tugs at his chest, makes him want to smile, and cry.   
But he also thinks about the way Hwanwoong will sometimes look at him, disapproving, the way he’ll refuse his touches sometimes, how moody he can be when he’s stressed, or tired. He thinks about the little scars in his skin, the way his roots will show when he can’t be bothered to get them fixed, and the way he eats, so messy sometimes.   
  
Youngjo likes Hwanwoong. But not all of him like he thought at the beginning. And Hwanwoong, beautiful as he is, has always deserved better, someone who truly loves him, all of him. Youngjo doesn’t want to see the look on his face when his boyfriend finally realizes Youngjo can’t be that someone, never will be.   
  
So Youngjo wipes his wet cheeks with his sleeves, and sniffs, typing onto his phone, helplessly, because he knows, deep down, he’s doing the right thing. Again. Even if nobody understands it.   
  
_We should break up._   
  
He writes, because he doesn’t have the energy to sugarcoat it this time, not after he’s spent days and days, weeks, to get Hwanwoong to realize on his own that Youngjo isn’t the right one for him. Youngjo hoped Hwanwoong would stop liking him if he was cold and unattentive, and maybe, naturally, drift apart from him. But that never happened, because Hwanwoong has always been earnest, and he’d never dare do that to someone.   
  
It takes him awhile, but he finally presses send. And then mutes his phone.   
  
As he tries to sleep, amidst the salty wetness on his cheeks, the numbing pain in his chest that won’t stop growing and growing, harsh knocks on his doors startle him. He is effectively tugged away from that fine line between dreams and reality, and the pain is stronger than ever, now that he’s fully awake to realize there’s no turning back.  
  
It’s Geonhak, his brain provides helpfully in the middle of his sleepy, regretful state- he probably forgot his keys.   
  
So Youngjo doesn’t even bother checking before he opens the main door, only for a warm, insistent pressure to suddenly pounce onto him, wrapping him completely before he can even react.   
  
It’s his perfume.   
  
Hwanwoong’s perfume.   
  
Hwanwoong hugging him, so tightly he can’t even breathe.   
  
It’s funny, he thinks without a single bit of amusement. Breaking up always made him feel like he was finally living a movie like romance- way more than actual dating ever did.   
  
But it’s now that he realizes, if this is what real romance feels like, he doesn’t want it.  
  
What he wants is Hwanwoong back, being with Hwanwoong, no matter how fake he may think it is, how bad it’ll inevitably end. Because having him here, pressed against himself, hugging him again after so many days apart, feels right, feels real.   
  
And he thinks, as Hwanwoong pushes away to show red eyes, trembling lips, that he’s made a terrible, terrible mistake.   
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELP here goes nothing. (Make sure you've read the previous chapters!!)

.  
  
  
  
  
  
Things really couldn’t get more awkward.  
  
As he looks at the face of his recently lost, one true love, his beloved, the apple of his eye, the center of his univer-  
  
“Youngjo, would you stop looking at me like that, you’re making me nervous.”  
  
Well. Hwanwoong has never been good with tension filled silences anyways.  
  
“Sorry.” Youngjo apologizes shyly and stops staring at his - ex? - boyfriend like a creep. He feels out of his element as he waits for Hwanwoong to speak first, say something, anything. Youngjo has never been good at confrontations, but somehow having Hwanwoong close, awkwardness and all, he feels comforted, like he’s not all that alone.  
  
The guilt still eats him inside out, nonetheless, as Hwanwoong gnaws at his lip, warm cup of tea in his hands. He hasn’t touched it, even though he was trembling when he arrived. Youngjo doesn’t know if it was because of the cold evening or his emotional state, but either way, making tea was an excellent excuse to buy them both some time to calm down.  
  
But time has ran out. And Youngjo is shaken and expectant, on edge. He feels like he might explode if Hwanwoong doesn’t say something. Yell at him. Hell, hit him even. Because he can still feel the warmth of his hug, and he wants it back. He doesn’t think his heart can stand the sight of the other’s tears, again. His puffy eyes and red cheeks are enough to have his chest all up in knots.  
  
“Do you... “ Hwanwoong tries, clearing his throat and puffing up his chest like when he’s trying to feel stronger, deal with a difficult situation. “Do you not like me anymore?” He asks, but his voice, unlike his body, comes out soft and uncertain. He won’t even look at him.  
  
Youngjo sighs, sadly, and drags a hand down his face. He can’t lie. Not to him.  
  
“Hwanwoong…” 

“You know-” Hwanwoong interrupts him with a soft chuckle, but it comes out dry, forced. He’s tired, and Youngjo has the urge to wrap him in his arms and kiss it all better.  
  
But he doesn’t have that privilege anymore.  
  
He’ll sit down, prettily, despite how messy he looks, lips still sticky with the ice cream he left back in his room, and take whatever Hwanwoong will throw at him. Because he deserves it.  
  
“You didn’t know me back then, but I started liking you in first year.” Hwanwoong continues bravely. And Youngjo is breathless, can’t even express his surprise as the new information sinks in his mind. “You had just broken up with Seoho, and I thought I’d give it a few weeks and try to hit on you if I saw you at a party or something. But then- then you started dating this older exchange student.” Ah yeah, things didn’t end up well with that one. “And then- then Dongmyeong I think.” Nor with him.   
  
Hwanwoong looks up at him from his place on the couch, looking soft and vulnerable. And he’s opening up to him in a way Youngjo isn’t sure he deserves, but at this point, he’ll go with anything that might help Hwanwoong feel better.  
  
“After you ended things with Dongmyeong, you became the bane of Dongju’s existence. So I tried to ignore you, for him. But of course it was hard. You were always everywhere, and even if you didn’t notice me, it was hard, seeing you change your boyfriends more often than your jackets.” It’s true, Youngjo has always been fond of his precious jackets.  
  
Youngjo offers Hwanwoong a little apologetic smile, but it’s difficult to look at him in the eyes, and so, the contact is soon broken. He feels humbled by the new perspective. It’s surprising to hear, when half of the time he considered Hwanwoong mostly uninterested. But it comes with a decent amount of guilt too. Guilt that he never saw Hwanwoong before, even if he was right there, always close. He hates that he made him hurt, even before he knew him.  
  
Hwanwoong clears his throat before he continues, hands fidgety in a way Youngjo has never seen before.  
  
“So when you finally noticed me, asked me out so easily like it was nothing, out of nowhere really- “ He swallows, the soft shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “God, I was so happy- I didn’t even pay attention when Dongju tried to yell some sense into me. And then Keonhee came to warn me not to get myself into this. But I wanted to try, see for myself.”  
  
And it finally hits Youngjo, just how bad it must look from the outside, do people believe he’s some kind of monster? It sends a wave of nausea through him and he shifts uncomfortably. It’s only a comfort to think that he deserves this, and he swallows, willing, for once, to face this directly instead of locking himself in his room until people forget.  
  
Hwanwoong drinks a bit of his now lukewarm tea before continuing. He's so slight, movements always so graceful.  
  
“But I didn’t want to be just like the others, another addition to your list. So I made a plan. I told myself, I wouldn’t give in easily. I’d make you work for it, take my time …"  
  
“That’s why you wouldn’t kiss me?” Youngjo asks all of a sudden, baffled. And ah, that explains so much, the dates that never lead anywhere, the reason why Hwanwoong seemed so unsure at the beginning, almost uninterested. It’s enlightening, opens his eyes to a truth he would have never figured out himself. Why did Hwanwoong never tell him this? And why did Youngjo never ask?  
  
His maybe-still-but-probably-not-boyfriend glances at him and lets out a little, biteless snicker. “Wow, that really messed you up, didn’t it? That someone wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

It's a jab at his pride, and he'll take it gracefully.  
  
“I- you just… you were really confusing.” With his mouth dry, Youngjo struggles against it, but the words leave him regardless. It’s strange, to say something like this, out in the open, for Hwanwoong to hear.  
  
“Yeah, well. It was pointless to keep it up, anyways. I liked- like you too much for it.” Hwanwoong corrects himself, making all kind of feelings tangle themselves in Youngjo’s stomach, disturbing, sickish. “And dating you was so much more different than what I expected.”  
  
“What- what did you expect?” Youngjo dares to ask, a spurge of courage he didn’t know he had in himself. If it surprises Hwanwoong, he doesn’t show it.  
  
“I don’t know. I thought that maybe you’d get tired of me after we slept together, or that maybe that was all you cared about. After all, you had all the reputation that a fuckboy could have." Auch. "But it wasn't like that at all, you-…you cared about me. You wanted to see me, spend time with me. It was- it was so nice. I really thought we had something going.”  
  
Youngjo swallows back tears at the way Hwanwoong frowns stubbornly at his small table, seemingly fighting with his own feelings as well. But the other eventually cracks, and a tear falls down his pretty, smooth cheek, before he harshly wips it away.  
  
“I don’t understand what went wrong. I thought you liked me, but you started pushing me away-” Hwanwoong’s voice turns into a whine in the end and Youngjo can’t help but move, sit next to him.  
  
“God, I’m sorry- I did- I do. I like you, so, so much but- It’s not you, It’s me, I'm-”  
  
Hwanwoong rolls his eyes and stands up at that, wiping away the wetness of his eyes to face him again. “‘It’s not you, it’s me’?!” He mocks, indigned. “Oh come on, you can do better than that-”  
  
“No, no- I mean it- Hwanwoong.” Youngjo swallows and stands up on wobbly legs, slowly getting closer to the other. He’s scared, feels wrong, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, how to talk, what to say.  
  


And eventually, he takes way too long to figure out himself and his words, lost in the way the other would stare at him, patience visibly thinning in his eyes. He watches, helplessly, when it finally leaves him and Hwanwoong scoffs, moving back and away from his reach.  
  
“I see.” He smiles derisively, and the slight cruel expression is still better than seeing him in tears. So Youngjo takes it, knowing he’s the only one to blame. “God I can’t believe even Lee Seoho of all people came to warn me and I-”  
  
“Seoho?” Youngjo interrupts bluntly, in pure disbelief. The mere name makes the sick feeling in his stomach start pushing and morphing into pure raw anger that overtakes his body, his voice. It makes him tremble with rage at all the memories that come rushing back uncontrollable. “Lee Seoho? What did he have to say? Oh bad things only, I'm sure. Even when all I ever did was try to accomodate to him, do as he wanted- but of course nothing was ever enough, there was always something wrong with me, no matter what I did and now he dares- he fucking dares to-" 

Youngjo stops in his track when he realizes the sheer volume in which he’s speaking- yelling. It unsettles him, unused to feeling like this and uncomfortable in his own skin. So he forcefully chokes the rest of his words back, looking away from Hwanwoong’s stunned eyes at his sudden outburst.  
  


He feels mad. Hell, he _is_ mad. Youngjo is in fact, furious, for the very first time in ages.  
  
“Damn, so you finally decided to stop being a pushover for once?” Hwanwoong’s sudden harsh words reach him, and all the rage in him surges, and he glares, for the very first time at him.  
  
Youngjo can’t find the words to reply, so he exhales, shaking his head in exasperation as he goes back to slump down onto the couch to glare down at his hands. He tries to calm the loud, cruel voices yelling at him in his head, but it's pointless and he only manages to soothe some of the furious energy tingling under his skin.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Hwanwoong softly apologizes after a moment, and he feels his comforting weight next to him, hand touching his shoulder apologetically. It helps, somehow, the way the other makes the guilt in his voice so expressive, the way he's so very willing to acknowledge his fault, and fix it.

"It's fine." Youngjo replies, but keeps stubbornly looking down at his hands between his legs. 

“I just- I never saw you mad. You never argued with me.”  
  
“I don’t like arguing.” Youngjo mumbles as a reply, accepting the apology, his touches.  
  
“Does anyone?”  
  
A shrug. “I guess not.”  
  
Hwanwoong swallows audibly and slides his hand down the older's arm, until it reaches Youngjo’s own, interlacing their fingers together timidly. Youngjo lets him. And he watches the familiar size difference between his hands with something akin to fondness. 

“But disagreements happen sometimes, you know? It’s just that… sometimes it feels like I don’t know the real you. I don’t know what you want- or- or what you feel. You’re always so cautious, trying to charm everyone, always so perfect. It's okay to say if something bothers you, you know?" A small chuckle, a little kiss pressed on his shoulder and Hwanwoong’s chin hooking on top of it.  
  
“I just- I didn’t want to ruin things.” Youngjo admits in a small voice, straightening up and letting his cheek rest on top of Hwanwoong’s head.  
  
And it’s easier to speak like this, he realizes, without having to look at the other, just feeling him close.  
  
“But you broke up with me anyways. Why?” Hwanwoong replies, gentle, without reproach, just trying to understand him, willing to listen.  
  
So, slowly but surely, Youngjo begins to talk. Little by little, word by word, and encouraged by Hwanwoong. He manages to explain the frustration and disappointment he feels whenever things don’t go according to what he expects, then stumbles through his way until Hwanwoong understands the deep guilt Youngjo felt each and every time he couldn’t cater to his needs. He explains why, even if he wanted to, couldn't really bring himself to do it.  
  
“You didn’t want to come to my place because of Dongju?” Hwanwoong asks, surprised.  
  
“God, he just hates my guts.” Youngjo sighs, and proceeds to talk about not seeing him between rehearsals in the theater even though he wanted to, afraid to run into Seoho as well.  
  
“But why didn’t you tell me? We could have found a way-”  
  
“I didn’t want to give you anymore problems. I'd hate to involve your friends. What if you…?”  
  
“What if I what?” Hwanwoong supports him, caresses his back until he can speak again.  
  
“What if you thought I wasn’t serious about you? I didn’t want you to think I didn’t like you because I couldn’t stand your friends. And then I had messed up already for not seeing you. I didn’t want to annoy you any further with my past drama and remind you of my long list of exes until you realized- until you... I- it’s just that breaking up now would save us both the time and the pain before we got in too deep once you saw I was no good for you and-”  
  
“Oh, Youngjo, no.” Hwanwoong sighs, running a hand through the back of his hair to stop his sudden, unexpected little rant. It's soothing. 

Hwanwoong makes it all flow, so easily, if he only lets them. 

“That’s not how things work in a relationship.” The other chides softly. “Thought you’d know this by now, with all the experience you’ve had.” Hwanwoong teases, and it steals a smile from him, easing the tension away.  
  
Hwanwoong explains then, kind and patient, how the lack of communication between them ended up giving him a complete wrong impression of what Youngjo wanted, of what he felt. If he cared, if he didn’t. In the end, he made the both of them suffer, he realizes, much to his dismay. 

He grunts against his palms out of pure frustration and waits, eagerly, for the moment his mind will stop tormenting him for his recent mistakes. Hwanwoong just chuckles at his misery, and is kind enough to let him be silent until he stops feeling stupid for not having seen the obvious.  
  
“I didn’t imagine you’d be this insecure.” Hwanwoong says, later, when he comes back from making them both their second cup of tea. 

They’ve been talking for an hour now, maybe two. And Youngjo feels infinitely better, lighter, like the knot in his chest has finally untied after so long of tugging at it and making it worse, tighter.  
  
It’s a revelation for him too. Kim Youngjo, who presents himself to the world so fearlessly, so confidently, is nothing but a mask.  
  
“Thank you.” Youngjo says softly as he’s handed his tea and Hwanwoong sits next to him again, hand on his thigh, like they’re still together, as if he hadn’t broken up with him that very same day. “I… what does this mean for us?” Youngjo dares to ask because after baring himself like that, mind and soul, it doesn’t scare him anymore. Not when all he wishes is to make this right, fix them, now that he realizes that he actually can, with Hwanwoong to help. Both of them sharing the weight of it, the will to continue.  
  
Hwanwoong doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, his hand finds Youngjo’s again, who’s so in tune with his touches that he doesn’t know what he’d do without them.  
  
“Youngjo… why did you first like me?” Hwanwoong asks, as he looks at him and fixes his messy fringe, with such fondness, he feels filled with love.  
  
It’s a tricky question he thinks. He isn’t sure, and he says as much. Hwanwoong’s beautiful to him, he says, makes him blush slightly in their warm bubble of comfort. Youngjo shares about all the scenarios he likes to fantasize about, his ideas for dates, how happy it makes him to imagine Hwanwoong in them with him. Together. He loves the idea of being together, he finally concludes.   
  
“Yes but, see? That’s all good, I like that too. I want us to do trips, to go on dates, parties... But, I like you. For you. Regardless of all that. I like your smile, your laugh, how you dress, I like how gentle you are, how talented, that you’re so charming, empathetic…” Youngjo stares, helplessly, as he feels his eyes fill with yet more tears, that he refuses to shed. Hwanwoong notices, and clicks his tongue. “I even like that you’re a crybaby.” He jokes, ignoring Youngjo’s little ‘hey!’ of protest. But soon, he gets serious again, sitting back straight, and Youngjo responds in kind.  
  
"Do you like me or the idea of being with me? Because I can't be with someone who idealizes me so much their feelings won't stand a single one of my flaws. Because I have them. Many, of them in fact..." Hwanwoong mumbles, fidgeting with his own hands, Youngjo's in the middle. “I get grumpy very easily, I’m bossy when I’m stressed, I often don’t have time for others, I’m messy and really lazy about cleaning, sometimes I get moody and push people away and-”  
  
“It’s okay- that’s all okay.” Youngjo rushes to say, because he understands now, that he doesn’t need to like all of it to make it work. If Hwanwoong can deal with his flaws, then so can he.  
  
Hwanwoong smiles, breathing in deeply.  
  
“Let’s take a week.” He says, determined. And nothing Youngjo says can convince him otherwise.  
  
“One long talk won’t fix everything.” Hwanwoong replies to his protests, as he puts on his jacket with Youngjo’s help. It doesn't matter how much he tries to get him to stay, his efforts are pointless.  
  
Puppy eyes are now useless with him.  
  
“Can’t I even call you?” Youngjo whines as he opens the door for him, very reluctantly.  
  
Hwanwoong laughs. He doesn’t look tired anymore. He looks calm, content, despite his puffy eyes. “Just take the week. Think about it, yeah? About us.” With one little kiss on his cheek that sends a million butterflies in his stomach, Hwanwoong leaves him, after hours of talking, listening, understanding and getting to know each other better than ever.  
  
Youngjo stays in the couch, staring at the ceiling, processing his feelings. He thinks about everything, about his past relationships, the things he liked, what he hated. He imagines what he would have done differently, and tries to imagine alternative outcomes to situations that felt impossible to untangle with words alone. But above all, he thinks about Hwanwoong.  
  
When Geonhak finally comes back home. Youngjo is still there. So he stands up and hugs him, much to his friend's dismay, who insistently tries to push him away. 

Shocking, really.  
  
“Did you finally go mad with all that sugar in your brain, what the hell-”  
  
“Hwanwoong came.”

“What?” Geonhak finally stops fighting him, interest piqued at his words.  
  
“I think I love him.”  
  
“Oh god-”  
  
“For real this time. But I’m not sure yet. And I think he's okay with it.” Youngjo happily announces as he pulls away and sing-songs his way into the bathroom to get a very well needed shower.  
  
Geonhak can do nothing but smile to himself as he watches his friend, in love, yet again. And apparently, for real this time.  
  
Needless to say, Youngjo doesn’t make it through the week before he’s knocking on Hwanwoong’s door. 

No flowers. No chocolates. No great declarations of love. Just him. And it’s fine that way.  
  
Because when Hwanwoong opens the door and sees him, the smile that blooms on his face is better than any romantic scenario he could have ever come up with anyways.   
  
  
  
  
.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AS YOU CAN GUESS this "story" is reaching its end. I will write a final chapter as a epilogue sometime in the next....days...weeks....month.  
> Thanks for sticking by!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO, I'M BACK WITH THE LAST CHAPTER. I ACTUALLY, OFFICIALLY DID IT. I FINISHED A CHAPTERED STORY Y'ALL. 
> 
> This has mentions of alcohol but no drunkness. Also savage, fleeting xido moments bcs we all know how I am.

.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A spring wedding sounds lovely, Youngjo thinks as he spots the blossoming white flowers that grow on Hwanwoong’s little window pot. Maybe close to summer, so that they can have a reception outside without the risk of sudden coldness ruining their special day.   
  
Yes. It should be spring.  
  
He’s sure Hwanwoong would argue that autumn is a way better choice, with the safety of an actual closed location to back them up in case it decides to rain. But Youngjo would show him the perfect spot he devotedly picked for them, and he wouldn’t be able to refuse him.   
Youngjo can clearly picture it in his mind: He would take Hwanwoong there himself, and show him how they’d set the chairs, the decorations, all white and flowers- maybe even a flower arch!- And Hwanwoong would do that little thing with his mouth, where he tries to purse his lips in order not to smile; but Youngjo would notice right away and with a little nudge, some kisses, he would coax him to agree. Hwanwoong would laugh and throw his arms around Youngjo’s neck by tiptoeing, whisper “ _It’s perfect_.” against his lips, until the agent of the place clearing her throat would finally snap them out of their little love bubble. Hwanwoong’s cheeks would tint pink out of embarrassment and they’d close the deal right there. And then… then they would have to wait, and one day spring would come and after excruciating anticipation, they’d finally say “ _I do_ ” in front of their closest friends and family. He knows he’d catch Geonhak tearing up, even if he’d deny it vehemently afterwards. And then they’d make their entrance to Bleeding Love as a shower of flower petals falls rains on them, and Hwanwoong’s smile would shine with the beauty of a thousand stars-  
  
“Would you quit staring at the window for a moment and help. Me. Pack?”   
  
Right. Perhaps Youngjo should focus on surviving his first trip with his boyfriend ever before conjuring impossible wedding scenarios that they cannot afford anyways.   
  
“Woong, baby, it’s still early, they won’t pick us up for another hour-” Youngjo turns around to face his boyfriend with the sweetest smile he can muster, knowing a stressed Hwanwoong only responds well to space and understanding.   
  
“No, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t kept me up yesterday.” Hwanwoong huffs as he walks from his wardrobe to his bag, punching the things inside as if that would make more room suddenly appear in the already cramped space. “I haven’t even showered yet-”  
  
“Are you seriously blaming me from yesterday?” Youngjo laughs a little in disbelief, breathing in to remind himself not to feel personally attacked about this little outburst of stress.   
  
“Yes. You know what? Yes. I told you I needed to pack yesterday- but did you listen? No. And you kept- you kept-”   
  
_Kissing me_ , _touching me._ _  
__  
_ Youngjo knows what he means. In his defense, his boyfriend looked particularly attractive that previous night, with all the excitement about the new trip making him shine with an irresistible glow. It made Youngjo unable to keep his hands to himself. Not that his boyfriend complained- or kept his own hands to himself, thank you very much.   
  
But of course, he’s not about to point that out now with the current state of things.   
  
Hwanwoong huffs yet again as his aggressive attempts to shove even more clothes inside his bag escalate to the point where he’s close to breaking something real soon. Youngjo would feel extremely intimidated if he didn’t know Hwanwoong as well as he does by now. He sure is small for the amount of rage that can hold in his body.   
  
“Baby.” Youngjo whispers, gently stopping Hwanwoong by his wrists. “I’m sorry, but I can’t undo that now. So how about you take a shower while I finish this up for you, huh? I’m great at packing.” Youngjo offers as he looks deep into Hwanwoong’s hesitant eyes, reassuring him with sweetness until he feels the tension bleed from his body and relax.   
  
“Okay.”   
  
Youngjo smiles once more and watches the way Hwanwoong drags his feet to the bathroom head down and looking rather put off by the whole situation. Youngjo sighs and shakes his head to get rid of the sudden questionable thoughts that attack him, this time rather prepared. No, Hwanwoong is not mad at him. No, this doesn’t mean their relationship is crumbling. No, this doesn’t mean he should back down from the trip. No, no, _no,_ he does _not_ need a bucket of ice-cream right now, he absolutely does _not-_ _  
__  
_ A sudden, unexpected weight settles on his back as he’s folding his boyfriend’s clothes on the bed, startling him slightly out of his sudden spiral of insecurities.   
  
“I’m sorry.” Hwanwoong whispers with his forehead on the middle of his shoulder blades, his warm breath seeping through Youngjo’s thin shirt and caressing his skin in ways that make him feel tingly all over, as if feather like touches stroked all over his skin.   
  
“It's okay.” He replies, swallowing dryly. There’s still an uneasy knot in the pit of his stomach. But it cannot last, not with the way Hwanwoong wraps his arms around his waist as if he was trying to convey all his fondness for him through that simple embrace.   
  
Youngjo isn’t used to being treasured like Hwanwoong seems to treasure him nowadays. It’s not like Hwanwoong wasn’t affectionate before, but sometime along their second shot at this- their relationship- something about him changed. What before used to be all guarded affection and private thoughts slowly seemed to morph into free, unrestricted physical proximity and shared feelings of fondness. When Youngjo gathered the courage to ask what had prompted the change, Hwanwoong shrugged. _I guess I just trust you now, it doesn’t feel like you’re gonna give up on me at any time_ he confessed with an ease Youngjo couldn’t help but envy; _I used to have the completely wrong idea about who you were and what you felt for me._ _  
__  
_ Sometimes Youngjo still thinks about those words, and wonders what is it Hwanwoong sees now that he didn’t see before. Was he always scared he’d leave him?  
  
“No, it’s not okay.” Hwanwoong whines in that way that always makes Youngjo want to squeeze his cheeks and talk to him in a baby voice. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I’m just stressed and- and-”  
  
“Hey. Hey, it’s fine. I get it.” Youngjo turns around, cradling Hwanwoong’s face in his hands, who once again refuses to look up at him. He’s rather reserved today, and while Youngjo has learnt not to make everything about himself, that doesn’t mean it sits well with him. “We haven’t seen each other much lately, and we fought the other day-”  
  
“We didn’t _fight_ -”   
  
“Okay. We had an _argument.”_ Youngjo corrects himself, rolling his eyes sweetly and pressing a peck on Hwanwoong’s forehead. “We’ll be okay, yeah? It’s just a week and we’re making progress-”  
  
“I feel like I keep messing up though.” Hwanwoong admits, playing with the hem of Youngjo’s shirt. It melts away each and every last bit of fear left in his body.   
  
“So do I. But we can always talk things out, can’t we?”  
  
The shadow of a smile tugs at the side of Hwanwoong’s mouth and he bites his bottom lip, preventing Youngjo from being blinded with it’s prettiness.   
  
“Well look at you, Mr. I-break-up-with-you-over-text. Since when are you an expert on this?”  
  
Youngjo presses a hand over his chest and groans, as if badly wounded. Hwanwoong tuts at him disapprovingly and shakes him by the arm until he stops bad-acting his way into making his boyfriend laugh.   
  
“It’s you. You changed me. I’m a changed man- your _love_ has cured me-”  
  
“Oh my _god-”_ Hwanwoong whines and covers his ears as he stomps his way into the bathroom, cheeks ablaze with embarrassment. “And _I’m_ the one in the drama club, really…”  
  
“You should cast me!”  
  
“ _Shut up_!”  
  
Youngjo laughs, and somewhere amidst folding his boyfriend’s clothes, he thinks this might be the first time any of them acknowledged that word before.  
  
_Love_.  
  
The strange thing is, for all his grandiose declarations of falling in love, over and over again, Youngjo doesn’t think he’s actually ever told someone he loves them before. Unless, like… that drunken evening dancing to Just Dance with Keonhee counts.   
  
Youngjo doesn’t have much time to mull over it, because as soon as he’s done a perfect job out of packing everything neatly for his boyfriend, he’s fresh out of the shower. Hwanwoong looks so soft, smells so utterly exquisite, Youngjo can’t help but steal a kiss or two. And Hwanwoong responds in kind, momentarily distracted by that gifted moment of peace until Dongju shouts at them to hurry the hell up and _god you two are so gross._ _  
__  
_ ...   
  
It's a tight fit. There are five of them and Keonhee’s car isn’t exactly spacious. But of course nobody can talk badly about his barely functioning baby- unless you want to get thrown out the window from a moving car, that is.   
  
“You need to turn right in the next exit-” Geonhak says, the designated co-driver for the day. Not that they had other options. Nobody else can drive.   
  
“Right?” Keonhee exclaims, and tries to glimpse at the map in Geonhak’s phone, receiving a not so kind scolding from Dongju to look at the damn road.   
  
“Isn’t it left?” Hwanwoong mumbles, as he looks around a bit confused. He's so cute, recently waken from a nap, with his hair fluffy in a way that devastatingly sticks in all directions. Youngjo thinks he actually just cooed out loud.   
  
“Just do as the stupid GPS says.” Dongju speaks up with obvious annoyance, making Geonhak reach back and squeeze his leg, effectively soothing him down into staring at the window again.   
When he notices Youngjo spotting their interaction, though, the younger one glares daggers at him.  
  
Dongju still hates him. That much is a fact. But maybe way less now that Youngjo managed to make amends with his brother. Dongju went from wanting to strangle him with his eyes to mostly ignoring his existence. A lot of that had to do with the fact that Hwanwoong nowadays intervenes as soon as he senses Youngjo is uncomfortable because of his treatment, and for that, he’s thankful. But with Geonhak around, Dongju is usually too distracted to care even if Youngjo tries to lowkey grope his best friend in his presence. 

Not that he would  _ dare,  _ pff. 

  
“Youngjo.” Keonhee calls, snapping him out of his little bubble of caressing Hwanwoong’s fluffed up hair in a fake attempt to soften it down. “You’ve been here before, which way?”   
  
“I’m not sure. I texted Yonghoon in the last turn, but he hasn’t replied yet.”   
  
Hwanwoong’s body is suddenly rigid and on high alert at the mention of their older mutual friend. Youngjo curses mentally, knowing Hwanwoong doesn’t cope well with the mention of any of his many exes.    
  
“Yonghoon? Didn’t things end bad with him?” Keonhee asks, completely uninterested in the road for a second before Geonhak promptly- gently- slaps the back of his head. “Ouch, ouch, okay-”   
  
“He broke up with him over text.” Dongju snorts, looking through the window with feigned apathy, as if he wasn’t always ready to jump at any given opportunity to remind the world that Youngjo sucks- particularly as a boyfriend. “Classic.”   
  
Keonhee tuts disapprovingly as Youngjo rolls his eyes with a groan. Here we go again. “Oh, Youngjo.”   
  
“He was so nice too,” Geonhak comments, the traitor.    
  
“Shouldn’t you be trying to figure out the map?” Youngjo replies with a plastic fake smile on, throwing daggers at his friend with his eyes instead of acknowledging the issue.    
  
“He still is, I saw him the other day-”   
  
“Can we not-” Youngjo interrupts Keonhee with a moan of distress, but goes ignored.    
  
“How long did you guys even date?”   
  
“I’d say about a month-”   
  
“Guys please.” Youngjo insists, getting restless by the second. The uneasiness that grows inside of him is getting bigger and bigger with each pronounced word, and he doesn’t even dare to glance at Hwanwoong, in shame, sitting stiff so as to not even touch him.    
  
“He even bought him flowers the previous day, can you believe him?” Geonhak snickers, and Youngjo just wants earth to open up and swallow him along with his so called friends. God they suck.    
  
“What the hell, did you really? Dude, that was such a dick move. Just how much ice cream did you swallow afterwards-”   
  
“Hey, be nice to my boyfriend!” Hwanwoong suddenly explodes, as if he had been slowly morphing into a ticking bomb ready to snap anytime soon. And he finally does, kicking the back of Keonhee’s seat hard and unforgiving until the other squeals about his poor precious baby car.    
  
Hwanwoong hits him in the back of his head instead.    
  
“Ouch, ouch, okay, I get it! Jesus, what is it, let’s hit Keonhee day?”   
  
“All of you suck, leave Youngjo alone, only I can talk about that.” Hwanwoong declares, eyes firm in a way that suggests things won’t end nicely if anyone dares to defy him. When Dongju opens his mouth to say something, Hwanwoong’s killing glare is enough to shut him up in an instant.    
  
Youngjo watches in disbelief as his dearest boyfriend sinks back into his seat and crosses his arms, in utter annoyance about the whole situation.The car is silent, an obedient aura of calmness that wraps around them as nobody dares to open their mouth and ruin the trip before it can even start. Youngjo’s filled with overflowing fondness that wraps around him like the most comforting of embraces. Hwanwoong, his love, standing up for him like that, so genuinely, so protectively, it touches the deepest part of his heart.    
  
“Aww, babe.” Youngjo exhales, his voice conveying all the affection he can’t express with words alone. “Well,  _ thank you-” _   
  
“And you.” Hwanwoong interrupts him before he can go into a public rant about how wonderful his boyfriend is, and how uniquely lucky Youngjo is to have someone like him. But something about the way Hwanwoong is looking at him dead in the eye and pressing an accusatory finger against his shoulder- that feels as awful as being pinched- makes him wriggle in his seat awkwardly. “Break up with me over text again Kim Youngjo and so help me god, I will personally drown you in ice cream my fucking self.”   
  
Youngjo gapes, Keonhee snorts, Hwanwoong hits the seat again and the car instantly bursts into chaos, once more   
  
...   
  
They- predictably- miss their turn.    
  


...  
  
They get to the cabin way too late into the evening. The lady awaiting them scolds them for their tardiness and surprisingly, it’s Dongju who, with the sweetest smile and well mannered apologies, eases her into forgiving them without resentment. Youngjo is beyond baffled, sputtering in disbelief as Son Dongju’s sweetness melts away into his usual resting face of annoyance and hatred for everyone that isn’t Yeo Hwanwoong or Kim Geonhak. His roommate, though, remains unbothered, as if he had experienced this side of Dongju way too many times to even care to pay special attention to it. He does notice, though, when Dongju struggles to carry his bag, promptly snatching it from him with a wink, emanating the same energy of a prince saving a damsel in distress. Geonhak earns a pretty laugh and a lip bite that will haunt Keonhee’s dreams for a long time, if his disgusted face has anything to say about it.   
  
Youngjo is slightly envious. If he ever tried to do that, Hwanwoong would probably kick his ass. He doesn’t blame him. He lets him get away with enough as it is.   
  
When it’s time to pick their rooms it comes as no surprise when Dongju claims Geonhak for himself. There’s a silent, common agreement that their relationship is not up to questioning anymore. It’s obvious that they like each other, that they are together, whatever the way. Geonhak admitted to him one drunken, vulnerable night that not even he understands what it is that they have going sometimes. But he doesn’t want to complicate things, he likes what they have, even if it may make no sense whatsoever to the rest of the world. It’s theirs, and Dongju has more than once told him that he’s content like that.  
  
Hwanwoong drags Youngjo into his room of choosing, and keonhee is left to whine about ghosts on his own in the living room, mumbling something along the lines of _fifth-wheeling sucks._ _  
__  
_ It takes them some time to unpack, get settled and eat some of the sandwiches Geonhak prepares with the delicacy of a grandmother. Youngjo unpacks his cans of beers, Hwanwoong plays music, and they drink, they talk and laugh until they fall asleep.   
  
It’s Hwanwoong the one who gently wakes him up from his sprawled nightly nap on one of the worn out couches, and sweetly, insistently guides him to their room, no matter how uncooperative and heavy a sleepy Youngjo is.   
  
“Hwanwoong?” He asks with a yawn, as his boyfriend settles him on their bed and covers him with a blanket.   
  
“What, babe?”  
  
_Babe._  
  
“What day is it?” A caress on his forehead, a little, whispered chuckle.   
  
“It’s Saturday already, why?”  
  
A smile shines on his face despite the darkness, and he’s not so sleepy anymore as Hwanwoong lays next to him, and he’s swallowed into the warmest of hugs.   
  
“It’s been officially a month since we got back together.” Youngjo mumbles against Hwanwoong’s ear, basking in his scent, in the way his body molds to his.   
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“And we’re still together.”  
  
Hwanwoong stiffens in his embrace and turns around, slowly. His cheek squished against Youngjo’s arm is one of the most adorable sights Youngjo will ever have the honour of seeing, and yet, he can’t think about that, as his boyfriend caresses his cheek with overwhelming affection. His eyes convey the kind of love that one does not often wish to speak about aloud, and Youngjo understands what it feels like.   
  
“You did it then.” Youngjo grins, his chest a mess of fluttery feelings that drive him to kiss his boyfriend’s cheeks, eyelids, his chin, his mouth, hug him tightly until Hwanwoong retaliates with a little bite on his bottom lip that turns their little game into something more heated, heavier.   
  
And maybe they shouldn’t, not with the door open and their asleep friends nearby. But they don’t care. Youngjo is too happy to care. Because tonight, they have to celebrate. Because tonight, he finally, finally did it.   
  
Youngjo, finally, officially, broke his cycle.   
  
…  
  
Which is far from saying he’s finally gotten over his infatuation with romance.   
  
“Baby?”  
  
“Mh?”  
  
“What do you think about a spring wedding?”  
  
“ _Youngjo._ ”   
  
…   
  
  
  
  
Fin.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
.


End file.
